MY FIRST YEARS AS 
A FRENCHWOMAN 



MARY KING WADDINGTON 






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BOOKS BY MADAME WADDINGTON 
Published by CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 



My First Years as a Frenchwoman. 

With 24 full-page illustrations. 8vo, net $2.50 

Chateau and Country Life in France. 

With 24 full-page illustrations. 8vo, net J2.50 

Italian Letters of a Diplomat's Wife. 

With 24 full-page illustrations. 8vo, net $2.50 

Letters of a Diplomat's Wife. With 25 

full-page illustrations. 8vo net $2.50 



MY FIRST YEARS AS A 
FRENCHWOMAN 




Madame Wa<ldington. 
Fruiii a photograph taken in the year uf the Ex|>ositiOD, 187 



MY FIRST YEARS AS A 
FRENCHWOMAN 

1876-1879 



BY 

MARY KING WADDINGTON 



ILLUSTRATED 



NEW YORK 

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
1914 



!\^ 



f^ 
^^^ 



Copyright, 1914, by 
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 



Published April, 1914 



APR I5l9f4 It 




>CI,A371375 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAOS 

I. When MacMahon was President ... 3 

II. Impressions of the Assembly at Versailles 17 

III. M. Waddington as Minister of Public In- 

struction 35 

IV. The Social Side of a Minister's Wife . . 52 
V. A Republican Victory and a New Ministry 75 

VI. The Exposition Year 99 

VII. The Berlin Congress 133 

VIII. Gaieties at the Quai d'Orsay 156 

IX. M. Waddington as Prime Minister . . . 177 

X. Parliament Back in Paris 212 

XI. Last Days at the Foreign Office . . . 249 

Index 273 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

Madame Waddington Frontispiece l^ 

From a photograph taken in the year of the Exposition, 1878. 

FACING 
PAGE ^ 

Monsieur Thiers 4 *^ 

Marshal MacMahon 8 - 

Sitting of the National Assembly at the palace of / 

Versailles \%^ . 

The foyer of the opera S'it^ 

Meeting of officers of the National Assembly, and of 
delegates of the new chambers, in the salon of 

Hercules, palace of Versailles 50 ' 

Theodor Mommsen 60 

Palace of the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Paris . . 78 

Franz Liszt 88 " 

William E. Gladstone 92 "^ 

Lord Lyons 100 ^ 

His Royal Highness, Edward, Prince of Wales, in 187G . 112 

Prince Hohenlohe 122 

M. William Waddington. In the uniform he wore as 

Minister of Foreign Affairs and at the Berlin / 

Congress, 1878 134 "^ 

Nasr-ed-Din, Shah of Persia 138 

Prince Bismarck 144 1' 

The Berlin Congress 152 

[vii] 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

FACINQ 
PAGE 



FACINQ 
PAGE 

M. Jules Grevy, reading Marshal MacMahon's letter 

OF resignation to the Chamber or Deputies . . . 178 



M. Jules Gr^vy elected President of the Republic by 
the Senate and Chamber of Deputies meeting as 

THE National Assembly 182 ^' 

The Elys^e Palace, Paris 186 / 

Her Majesty Queen Victoria, about 1879 196 ' 

M. DE Freycinet 252 ^ 

Mme. Sadi Carnot 264 v 

President Sadi Carnot 266 ^ 



MY FIRST YEARS AS A 
FRENCHWOMAN 



MY FIRST YEARS AS A 
FRENCHWOMAN 



WHEN MacMAHON WAS PRESIDENT 

I WAS married in Paris in November, 1874, at 
the French Protestant Chapel of the rue Tait- 
bout, by Monsieur Bersier, one of the ablest and 
most eloquent pastors of the Protestant church. 
We had just established ourselves in Paris, after 
having lived seven years in Rome. We had a 
vague idea of going back to America, and Paris 
seemed a first step in that direction — was nearer 
New York than Rome. I knew very little of 
France — we had never lived there — merely stayed 
a few weeks in the spring and autumn, coming and 
going from Italy. My husband was a deputy, 
named to the National Assembly in Bordeaux in 
1871, by his Department — the Aisne. He had 
some difficulty in getting to Bordeaux. Commu- 
nications and transports were not easy, as the 
Germans were still in the country, and, what was 

[31 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

more important, he hadn't any money — couldn't 
correspond with his banker, in Paris — (he was Hv- 
ing in the country) . However, a sufficient amount 
was found in the country, and he was able to make 
his journey. When I married, the Assembly was 
sitting at Versailles. Monsieur Thiers, the first 
President of the Republic, had been overthrown in 
May, 1873 — Marshal MacMahon named in his 
place. W.* had had a short ministry (public in- 
struction) under Monsieur Thiers, but he was so 
convinced that it would not last that he never 
even went to the ministry — saw his directors in his 
own rooms. I was plunged at once into abso- 
lutely new surroundings. W\'s personal friends 
were principally Orleanists and the literary ele- 
ment of Paris — his colleagues at the Institute. 
The first houses I was taken to in Paris were the 
Segurs, Remusats, Lasteyries, Casimir Periers, 
Gallieras, d'Haussonville, Leon Say, and some of 
the Protestant families — Pourtales, Andre Bar- 
tholdi. Mallet, etc. It was such an entirely differ- 
ent world from any I had been accustomed to 
that it took me some time to feel at home in my 
new milieu. Political feeling was very strong 
— all sorts of fresh, young elements coming to the 

*" W., " here and throughout this book, refers to Madame Wad- 
dington's husband, M. William Waddington. 

[4] 




^J 



Monsieur Thiers. 



WHEN MacMAHON WAS PRESIDENT 

front. The Franco-German War was just over — 
the French very sore and bitter after their defeat. 
There was a strong underlying feeling of violent 
animosity to the Emperor, who had lost them two 
of their fairest provinces, and a passionate desire 
for the revanche. The feeling was very bitter 
between the two branches of the Royalist party. 
Legitimists and Orleanists. One night at a party 
in the Faubourg St. Germain, I saw a well-known 
fashionable woman of the extreme Legitimist party 
turn her back on the Comtesse de Paris. The re- 
ceptions and visits were not always easy nor pleas- 
ant, even though I was a stranger and had no ties 
with any former government. I remember one 
of my first visits to a well-known Legitimist count- 
ess in the Faubourg St. Germain; I went on her 
reception day, a thing all young women are most 
particular about in Paris. I found her with a cir- 
cle of ladies sitting around her, none of whom I 
knew. They were all very civil, only I was as- 
tonished at the way the mistress of the house 
mentioned my name every time she spoke to me: 
"Madame Waddington, etes-vous allee a I'Opera 
hier soir," *' Madame Waddington, vous montez 
a cheval tons les matins, je crois," "Monsieur Wad- 
dington va tons les vendredis a ITnstitut, il me 
semble," etc. I was rather surprised and said to 

[5] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

W. when I got home, "How curious it is, that way 
of saying one's name all the time; I suppose it is 
an old-fashioned French custom. Madame de B. 
must have said * Waddington ' twenty times during 
my rather short visit." He was much amused. 
"Don't you know why? So that all the people 
might know who you were and not say awful 
things about the *infecte gouvernement ' and the 
Republic, 'which no gentleman could serve.'" 

The position of the German Embassy in Paris 
was very difficult, and unfortunately their first 
ambassador after the war. Count Arnim, didn't 
understand (perhaps didn't care to) how difficult 
it was for a high-spirited nation, which until then 
had always ranked as a great military power, to 
accept her humiliation and be just to the victori- 
ous adversary. Arnim was an unfortunate ap- 
pointment — not at all the man for such a delicate 
situation. We had known him in Rome in the 
old days of Pio Nono's reign, where he had a great 
position as Prussian minister to the Vatican. He 
and the Countess Arnim received a great deal, 
and their beautiful rooms in the Palazzo Caffarelli, 
on the top of the Capitol Hill (the two great 
statues of Castor and Pollux standing by their 
horses looking as if they were guarding the en- 
trance) were a brilliant centre for all the Roman 

[6] 



WHEN MacMAHON WAS PRESIDENT 

and diplomatic world. He was a thorough man 
of the world, could make himself charming when 
he chose, but he never had a pleasant manner, 
was curt, arrogant, with a very strong sense of his 
own superiority. From the first moment he came 
to Paris as ambassador, he put people's backs up. 
They never liked him, never trusted him; when- 
ever he had an unpleasant communication to make, 
he exaggerated the unpleasantness, never attenu- 
ated, and there is so much in the way things are 
said. The French were very hard upon him when 
he got into trouble, and certainly his own Govern- 
ment was merciless to him. 

One of my first small diflSculties after becom- 
ing a Frenchwoman was to eliminate some of my 
German friends from my salon. I could not run 
the risk of their being treated rudely. I remem- 
ber so well one night at home, before I was mar- 
ried, seeing two French officers not in uniform slip 
quietly out of the room when one of the German 
Embassy came in, yet ours was a neutral house. 
When my engagement was announced one of my 
great friends at the German Embassy (Count 
Arco) said to me: "This is the end, I suppose, of 
our friendship; I can never go to see you when 
you are the wife of a French deputy." "Oh, yes, 
you can still come; not quite so often, perhaps, but 

[7] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

I can't give up my friends." However, we drifted 
apart without knowing why exactly. It is curi- 
ous how long that hostile feeling toward Germany 
has lasted in France. 

Every year there is a great review of the Paris 
garrison (thirty thousand men) by the President 
of the Republic, at Longchamp, on the 14th of 
July, the national fete — the day of the storming 
of the Bastile. It is a great day in Paris — one of 
the sights of the year — and falling in midsummer 
the day is generally beautiful and very warm. 
From early dawn all the chairs and benches along 
the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne are crowded with 
people waiting patiently for hours to see the show. 
There is not a seat to be had at Longchamp. Un- 
less one arrives very early the tribunes are packed, 
and the President's box very crowded, as he in- 
vites the diplomatic corps and the ministers and 
their wives on that day. The troops are always 
received with much enthusiasm, particularly the 
artillery, dragging their light field-pieces and pass- 
ing at a gallop — also the battalion of St. Cyr, the 
great French military school. The final charge 
of the cavalry is very fine. Masses of riders come 
thundering over the plain, the general command- 
ing in front, stopping suddenly as if moved by 

[8] 




Marshal MacMahon. 



WHEN MacMAHON WAS PRESIDENT 

machinery, just opposite the President's box. I 
went very regularly as long as W. was in office, and 
always enjoyed my day. There was an excellent 
buffet in the salon behind the box, and it was 
pleasant to have a cup of tea and rest one's eyes 
while the long columns of infantry were passing — 
the regular, continuous movement was fatiguing. 
All the ambassadors and foreigners were very keen 
about the review, paying great attention to the 
size of the men and horses and their general equip- 
ment. As long as Marshal MacMahon was Presi- 
dent of the Republic, he always rode home after 
the review down the Champs-Elysees — in full uni- 
form, with a brilliant staff of foreign officers and 
military attaches. It was a pretty sight and at- 
tracted great attention. Some of the foreign uni- 
forms are very striking and the French love a 
military show. 

For many years after the war the German mili- 
tary attache returned from the review unobserved 
in a shut carriage, couldn't run the risk of an angry 
or insulting word from some one in the crowd, and 
still later, fifteen years after the war, when W. was 
ambassador in England, I was godmother of the 
daughter of a German-English cousin living in 
London. The godfather was Count Herbert Bis- 
marck, son of the famous chancellor. At the time 

[9] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

of the christening I was in France, staying with 
some friends in the country. The son of the house 
had been through the war, had distinguished him- 
self very much, and they were still very sore over 
their reverses and the necessity of submitting to 
all the little pin-pricks which came at intervals 
from Germany. Bismarck sent me a telegram 
regretting the absence of the godmother from the 
ceremony. It was brought to me just after break- 
fast, while we were having our coffee. I opened 
it and read it out, explaining that it was from Bis- 
marck to express his regret for my absence. There 
was a dead silence, and then the mistress of the 
house said to me: "C'est tres desagreable pour 
vous, chere amie, cette association avec Bismarck." 
I didn't see much of W. in the daytime. We 
usually rode in the morning in the Bois and imme- 
diately after breakfast he started for Versailles in 
the parliamentary train. Dinner was always a 
doubtful meal. Sometimes he came home very 
late for nine-o'clock dinner; sometimes he dined at 
Versailles and only got home at ten or eleven if 
the sitting was stormy. The Hotel des Reservoirs 
did a flourishing business as long as the Chambers 
sat at Versailles. When we were dining out it was 
very disagreeable, particularly the first winter 
when I didn't know many people. I remember 

[10] 



WHEN MacMAHON WAS PRESIDENT 

one dinner at the Countess Duchatel's where I 
went alone; we were ten women and five men. 
All the rest were deputies, who had telegraphed at 
the last moment they would not come, were kept 
at Versailles by an important question. 

One of the most interesting things I saw in 
1873, just before my marriage, was the court-mar- 
tial of Marshal Bazaine for treachery at Metz — • 
giving up his army and the city without any at- 
tempt to break through the enemy's lines, or in 
fact any resistance of any kind. The court was 
held at the Grand Trianon, Versailles, a place so 
associated with a pleasure-loving court, and the 
fanciful devices of a gay young queen, that it was 
diflScult to realise the drama that was being 
enacted, when the honour of a Marshal of France 
— almost an army of France, was to be judged. 
It was an impressive scene, the hall packed, and 
people at all the doors and entrances clamouring 
for seats. The public was curious, a little of 
everything — members of the National Assembly, 
oflScers all in uniform, pretty women of all cate- 
gories — the group of journalists with keen eager 
faces watching every change of expression of the 
marshal's face — some well-known faces, wives of 
members or leading political and literary men, a 
fair amount of the frailer sisterhood, actresses and 

Lii] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

demi-mondaines, making a great effect of waving 
plumes and diamonds. The court was presided 
over by the Due d'Aumale, who accepted the office 
after much hesitation. He was a fine, soldierly- 
figure as he came in, in full uniform, a group of 
officers behind him, all with stern, set faces. The 
impression of the public was generally hostile to the 
marshal; one felt it all through the trial. He was 
dressed in full uniform, with the grand cordon of 
the Legion of Honour. It was melancholy to hear 
the report of his career when it was read by 
his counsel, — long years of active service, many 
wounds, often mentioned for brave conduct under 
fire, having the "Medaille Militaire" — the grand 
cordon of the Legion d'Honneur, the baton de 
Marechal de France, — all the honours his country 
could give him — to end so miserably, judged not 
onl}' by the court but by the country, as a traitor, 
false to his trust, when his country was in the 
death-throes of defeat and humiliation. His atti- 
tude at the trial was curious. He sat very still 
in his armchair, looking straight before him, only 
raising his head and looking at the Due d'Aumale 
when some grave accusation was made against 
him. His explanation brought the famous reply 
from the due, when he said it was impossible to 
act or to treat; there was nothing left in France 

[12 1 



WHEN MacMAHON WAS PRESIDENT 

— no government, no orders — nothing. The due 
answered: "II y avait toujours la France." He 
didn't look overwhelmed, rather like some one 
who was detached from the whole proceedings. I 
saw his face quite well; it was neither false nor 
weak — ordinary. It is difficult to believe that a 
French general with a brilliant record behind him 
should have been guilty of such treachery, sac- 
rificing his men and his honour. His friends (they 
were not many) say he lost his head, was nearly 
crazy with the utterly unforeseen defeat of the 
French, but even a moment of insanity would 
hardly account for such extraordinary weakness. 
W. and some of his friends were discussing it in 
the train coming home. They were all convinced 
of his guilt, had no doubt as to what the sentence 
of the court would be — death and degradation — 
but thought that physical fatigue and great de- 
pression must have caused a general breakdown. 
The end every one knows. He was condemned to 
be shot and degraded. The first part of the sen- 
tence was cancelled on account of his former ser- 
vices, but he was degraded, imprisoned, escaped, 
and finished his life in Spain in poverty and ob- 
scurity, deserted by all his friends and his wife. 
It was a melancholy rentree for the Due d'Aumale. 
His thoughts must have gone back to the far-off 

[13] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

days when the gallant young officer, fils de France, 
won his first military glory in Algiers, and thought 
the world was at his feet. His brilliant exploit, 
capturing the Smala of Abd-el-Kader, has been 
immortalised by Vernet in the great historical 
picture that one sees at Versailles. There are 
always artists copying parts of it, particularly one 
group, where a lovely, fair-haired woman is falling 
out of a litter backward. Even now, when one 
thinks of the King Louis Philippe, with all his tall, 
strong, young sons (there is a well-known picture 
of the King on horseback w^ith all his sons around 
him — splendid specimens of young manhood) , it 
seems incredible that they are not still ruling and 
reigning at the Tuileries. I wonder if things would 
have been very different if Louis Philippe and his 
family had not walked out of the Tuileries that 
day! 

I often asked W. in what way France had gained 
by being a republic. I personally was quite im- 
partial, being born an American and never having 
lived in France until after the Franco-Prussian 
War. I had no particular ties nor traditions, had 
no grandfather killed on the scaffold, nor frozen 
to death in the retreat of "La Grande Armee" 
from Moscow. They always told me a republic 
was in the air — young talents and energy must 

[141 



WHEN MacMAHON WAS PRESIDENT 

come to the front — the people must have a voice 
in the government. I think the average French- 
man is intelHgent, but I don't think the vote of 
the man in the street can have as much value as 
that of a man who has had not only a good edu- 
cation but who has been accustomed always to 
hear certain principles of law and order held up 
as rules for the guidance of his own life as well as 
other people's. Certainly universal suffrage was 
a most unfortunate measure to take from America 
and apply to France, but it has been taken and 
now must stay. I have often heard political men 
who deplored and condemned the law say that no 
minister would dare to propose a change. 

I went often to the Chamber in the spring — 
used to drive out and bring W. home. Versailles 
was very animated and interesting during all that 
time, so many people always about. Quite a num- 
ber of women followed the debates. One met 
plenty of people one knew in the streets, at the 
Patissiers, or at some of the bric-a-brac shops, 
where there were still bargains to be found in very 
old furniture, prints, and china. There is a large 
garrison. There were always officers riding, squads 
of soldiers moving about, bugle-calls in all direc- 
tions, and continuous arrivals at the station of 
deputies and journalists hurrying to the palace, 

[15] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

their black portfolios under their arms. The pal- 
ace was cold. There was a fine draught at the 
entrance and the big stone staircase was always 
cold, even in June, but the assembly-room was 
warm enough and always crowded. It was rather 
difficult to get seats. People w^ere so interested in 
those first debates after the war, when everything 
had to be reorganised and so much of the past was 
being swept away. 



[16] 



II 

IMPRESSIONS OF THE ASSEMBLY AT VERSAILLES 

THE sittings of the assembly were very inter- 
esting in that wonderful year when every- 
thing was being discussed. All public interest of 
course was centred in Versailles, where the Na- 
tional Assembly was trying to establish some sort 
of stable government. There were endless discus- 
sions and speeches and very violent language in 
the Chambers. Gambetta made some bitter at- 
tacks on the Royalists, accusing them of mauvaise 
foi and want of patriotism. The Bonapartist 
leaders tried to persuade themselves and their 
friends that they still had a hold on the country 
and that a plebiscite would bring back in tri- 
umph their prince. The Legitimists, hoping against 
hope that the Comte de Chambord would still be 
the saviour of the country, made passionate ap- 
peals to the old feeling of loyalty in the nation, 
and the centre droit, representing the Orlean- 
ists, nervous, hesitating, knowing the position per- 
fectly, ardently desiring a constitutional mon- 

fl7l 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

archy, but feeling that it was not possible at that 
moment, yet unwilling to commit themselves to 
a final declaration of the Republic, which would 
make a Royalist restoration impossible. All the 
Left confident, determined. 

The Republic was voted on the 30th of January, 
1875, by a majority of one vote, if majority it 
could be called, but the great step had been taken, 
and the struggle began instantly between the mod- 
erate conservative Republicans and the more ad- 
vanced Left. W. came home late that day. Some 
of his friends came in after dinner and the talk 
was most interesting. I was so new to it all that 
most of the names of the rank and file were un- 
known to me, and the appreciations of the votes 
and the anecdotes and side-lights on the voters 
said nothing to me. Looking back after all these 
years, it seems to me that the moderate Royalists 
(centre droit) threw away a splendid chance. 
They could not stop the Republican wave (noth- 
ing could) but they might have controlled it and 
directed it instead of standing aloof and throwing 
the power into the hands of the Left. We heard 
the well-known sayings very often those days: 
*'La Republique sera conservatrice ou elle ne sera 
pas" and "La Republique sans Republicains," at- 
tributed to M. Thiers and Marshal MacMahon. 

[18] 



THE ASSEMBLY AT VERSAILLES 

The National Assembly struggled on to the end 
of the year, making a constitution, a parliament 
with two houses, senate and chamber of deputies, 
with many discussions and contradictions, and 
hopes and illusions. 

I went often to Versailles, driving out when the 
weather was fine. I liked the stormy sittings best. 
Some orator would say something that displeased 
the public, and in a moment there would be the 
greatest uproar, protestations and accusations 
from all sides, some of the extreme Left getting 
up, gesticulating wildly, and shaking their fists 
at the speaker — the Right, generally calm and 
sarcastic, requesting the speaker to repeat his 
monstrous statements — the huissiers dressed in 
black with silver chains, walking up and down 
in front of the tribune, calling out at intervals: 
*' Silence, messieurs, s'il vous plait," — the Presi- 
dent ringing his bell violently to call the house to 
order, and nobody paying the slightest attention, 
— the orator sometimes standing quite still with 
folded arms waiting until the storm should abate, 
sometimes dominating the hall and hurling abuse 
at his adversaries. W. was always perfectly quiet; 
his voice was low, not very strong, and he could 
not speak if there were an uproar. When he was 
interrupted in a speech he used to stand per- 

[19] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

fectly still with folded arms, waiting for a few 
minutes' silence. The deputies would call out: 
*'Allez! allez!" interspersed with a few lively crit- 
icisms on what he was saying to them ; he was per- 
fectly unmoved, merely replied: "I will go on with 
pleasure as soon as you will be quiet enough for 
me to be heard." Frenchmen generally have such 
a wonderful facility of speech, and such a pitiless 
logic in discussing a question, that the debates 
were often very interesting. The public was in- 
teresting too. A great many women of all classes 
followed the sittings — several Egerias (not gen- 
erally in their first youth) of well-known political 
men sitting prominently in the President's box, or 
in the front row of the journalists' box, following the 
discussions with great interest and sending down 
little slips of paper to their friends below — mem- 
bers' wives and friends who enjoyed spending an 
hour or two listening to the speeches — newspaper 
correspondents, literary ladies, diplomatists. It 
was very difficult to get places, particularly when 
some well-known orators were announced to speak 
upon an important question. We didn't always 
know beforehand, and I remember some dull after- 
noons with one or two members making long 
speeches about purely local matters, which didn't 
interest any one. We looked down upon an al- 

[20] 



THE ASSEMBLY AT VERSAILLES 

most empty hall on those occasions. A great many 
of the members had gone out and were talking in 
the lobbies; those who remained were talking in 
groups, writing letters, walking about the hall, 
quite unconscious apparently of the speaker at the 
tribune. I couldn't understand how the man 
could go on talking to empty benches, but W. told 
me he was quite indifferent to the attention of his 
colleagues, — his speech was for his electors and 
would appear the next day in the Journal Officiel. 
I remember one man talked for hours about "allu- 
mettes chimiques." 

Leon Say was a delightful speaker, so easy, 
always finding exactly the word he wanted. It 
hardly seemed a speech when he was at the trib- 
une, more like a causerie, though he told very 
plain truths sometimes to the peuple souverain. 
He was essentially French, or rather Parisian, 
knew everybody, and was au courant of all 
that went on politically and socially, and had a 
certain blague, that eminently French quality 
which is very difficult to explain. He was a hard 
worker, and told me once that what rested him 
most after a long day was to go to a small boule- 
vard theatre or to read a rather lively yellow- 
backed novel. 

I never heard Gambetta speak, which I always 

[21] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

regretted — in fact knew very little of him. He 
was not a ladies' man, though he had some devoted 
women friends, and was always surrounded by a 
circle of political men whenever he appeared in 
public. (In all French parties, immediately after 
dinner, the men all congregate together to talk to 
each other, — never to the women, — so unless you 
happen to find yourself seated next to some well- 
known man, you never really have a chance of 
talking to him.) Gambetta didn't go out much, 
and as by some curious chance he was never next 
to me at dinner, I never had any opportunity of 
talking to him. He was not one of W.'s friends, 
nor an habitue of the house. His appearance was 
against him — dark, heavy-looking, with an enor- 
mous head. 

When I had had enough of the speeches and the 
bad atmosphere, I used to wander about the ter- 
races and gardens. How many beautiful sunsets I 
have seen from the top of the terrace or else stand- 
ing on the three famous pink marble steps (so well 
known to all lovers of poetry through Alfred de 
Musset's beautiful verses, "Trois Marches Roses"), 
seeing in imagination all the brilliant crowd of 
courtiers and fair women that used to people those 
wonderful gardens in the old days of Versailles ! I 
went sometimes to the "Reservoirs" for a cup of 

[ 22 ] 



THE ASSEMBLY AT VERSAILLES 

tea, and very often found other women who had also 
driven out to get their husbands. We occasionally 
brought back friends who preferred the quiet cool 
drive through the Park of St. Cloud to the crowd 
and dust of the railway. The Count de St. Vallier 
(who was not yet senator, but deeply interested 
in politics) was frequently at Versailles and came 
back with us often. He was a charming, easy 
talker. I never tired of hearing about the brilliant 
days of the last Empire, and the fetes at the Tuile- 
ries, Compiegne, and St. Cloud. He had been a 
great deal at the court of Napoleon III, had seen 
many interesting people of all kinds, and had a 
wonderful memory. He must have had an inner 
sense or presentiment of some kind about the 
future, for I have heard him say often in speaking 
of the old days and the glories of the Empire, when 
everything seemed so prosperous and brilliant, that 
he used often to ask himself if it could be real — 
Were the foundations as solid as they seemed ! He 
had been a diplomatist, was in Germany at the 
time of the Franco-German War, and like so many 
of his colleagues scattered over Germany, was quite 
aware of the growing hostile feeling in Germany 
to France and also of Bismarck's aims and am- 
bitions. He (like so many others) wrote repeated 
letters and warnings to the French Foreign OflBce, 

[23] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

which apparently had no effect. One heard after- 
ward that several letters of that description from 
French diplomatists in Germany were found un- 
opened in a drawer at the ministry. 

It was rather sad, as we drove through the 
stately alleys of the Park of St. Cloud, with the 
setting sun shining through the fine old trees, to 
hear of all the fetes that used to take place there, — 
and one could quite well fancy the beautiful Em- 
press appearing at the end of one of the long 
avenues, followed by a brilliant suite of ladies and 
ecuyers, — and the echoes of the cor de chasse in 
the distance. The alleys are always there, and 
fairly well kept, but very few people or carriages 
pass. The park is deserted. I don't think the 
cor de chasse would awaken an echo or a regret 
even, so entirely has the Empire and its glories 
become a thing of the past. A rendez-vous de 
chasse was a very pretty sight. 

We went once to Compiegne before I was mar- 
ried, about three years before the war. We went 
out and breakfasted at Compiegne with a great 
friend of ours, M. de St. M., a chamberlain or 
equerry of the Emperor. W^e breakfasted in a 
funny old-fashioned little hotel (with a very good 
cuisine) and drove in a big open break to the forest. 
There were a great many people riding, driving, 

[24] 



THE ASSEMBLY AT VERSAILLES 

and walking, officers of the garrison in uniform, 
members of the hunt in green and gold, and a fair 
sprinkling of red coats. The Empress looked 
charming, dressed always in the uniform of the 
hunt, green with gold braid, and a tricorne on her 
head, — all her ladies with the same dress, which 
was very becoming. One of the most striking- 
looking of her ladies was the Princess Anna Murat, 
the present Duchesse de Mouchy, who looked very 
handsome in the tricorne and beautifully fitting 
habit. I didn't see the Empress on her horse, as 
we lost sight of them very soon. She and her ladies 
arrived on the field in an open break. I saw the 
Emperor quite distinctly as he rode up and gave 
some orders. He was very well mounted (there 
were some beautiful horses) but stooped slightly, 
and had rather a sad face. I never saw him 
again, and the Empress only long years after at 
Cowes, when everything had gone out of her life. 
The President, Marshal MacMahon, was living 
at the Prefecture at Versailles and received every 
Thursday evening. We went there several times 
— it was my first introduction to the official world. 
The first two or three times we drove out, but it 
was long (quite an hour and a quarter) over bad 
roads — a good deal of pavement. One didn't care 
to drive through the Park of St. Cloud at night — • 

[25] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

it was very lonely and dark. We should have 
been quite helpless if we had fallen upon any en- 
terprising tramps, who could easily have stopped 
the carriage and helped themselves to any money or 
jewels they could lay their hands on. One eve- 
ning the Seine had overflowed and we were obliged 
to walk a long distance — all around Sevres — and 
got to Versailles very late and quite exhausted 
with the jolting and general discomfort. After 
that we went out by train — which put us at the 
Prefecture at ten o'clock. It wasn't very conve- 
nient as there was a great rush for carriages when 
we arrived at Versailles, still everybody did it. 
We generally wore black or dark dresses with a 
lace veil tied over our heads, and of course only 
went when it was fine. The evening was pleasant 
enough — one saw all the political men, the mar- 
shal's personal friends of the droite went to 
him in the first days of his presidency, — (they 
rather fell off later) — the Government and Repub- 
licans naturally and all the diplomatic corps. 
There were not many women, as it really was 
rather an effort to put one's self into a low-necked 
dress and start off directly after dinner to the Gare 
St. Lazare, and have rather a rush for places. We 
were always late, and just had time to scramble 
into the last carriage. 

[26] 



THE ASSEMBLY AT VERSAILLES 

I felt very strange — an outsider — all the first 
months, but my husband's friends were very nice 
to me and after a certain time I was astonished to 
find how much politics interested me. I learned 
a great deal from merely listening while the men 
talked at dinner. I suppose I should have under- 
stood much more if I had read the papers regu- 
larly, but I didn't begin to do that until W. had 
been minister for some time, and then worked 
myself into a nervous fever at all the opposition 
papers said about him. However, all told, the 
attacks were never very vicious. He had never 
been in public life until after the war when he 
was named deputy and joined the Assemblee 
Nationale at Bordeaux — which was an immense 
advantage to him. He had never served any 
other government, and was therefore perfectly 
independent and was bound by no family tradi- 
tions or old friendships — didn't mind the opposi- 
tion papers at all — not even the caricatures. Some 
of them were very funny. There was one very 
like him, sitting quite straight and correct on the 
box of a brougham, "John Cocher Anglais n'a 
jamais verse, ni accroche" (English coachman 
who has never upset nor run into anything). 

There were a few political salons. The Countess 
de R. received every evening — but only men — no 

[271 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

women were ever asked. The wives rather de- 
murred at first, but the men went all the same — • 
as one saw every one there and heard all the latest 
political gossip. Another hostess was the Princess 
Lize Troubetskoi. She was a great friend and 
admirer of Thiers — was supposed to give him a 
great deal of information from foreign govern- 
ments. She was very eclectic in her sympathies, 
and every one went to her, not only French, but 
all foreigners of any distinction who passed through 
Paris. She gave herself a great deal of trouble for 
her friends, but also used them when she wanted 
anything. One of the stories which was always 
told of the Foreign Office was her "petit paquet," 
which she wanted to send by the valise to Berlin, 
when the Comte de St. Vallier was French am- 
bassador there. He agreed willingly to receive the 
package addressed to him, which proved to be a 
grand piano. 

The privilege of sending packages abroad by the 
valise of the foreign aflFairs was greatly abused 
when W. became Minister of Foreign Affairs. He 
made various changes, one of which was that the 
valise should be absolutely restricted to official 
papers and documents, which really was perhaps 
well observed. 

The Countess de Segur received every Saturday 

[28] 



THE ASSEMBLY AT VERSAILLES 

night. It was really an Orleanist salon, as they 
were devoted friends of the Orleans family, but 
one saw all the moderate Republicans there and 
the centre gauche (which struggled so long to keep 
together and be a moderating influence, but has 
long been swallowed up in the ever-increasing flood 
of radicalism) and a great many literary men, 
members of the Institute, Academicians, etc. They 
had a fine old house entre cour et jardin, with 
all sorts of interesting pictures and souvenirs. 
Countess de S. also received every day before 
three o'clock. I often went and was delighted 
when I could find her alone. She was very clever, 
very original, had known all sorts of people, and it 
was most interesting to hear her talk about King 
Louis Philippe's court, the Spanish marriages, the 
death of the Due d'Orleans, the Coup d'Etat of 
Louis Napoleon, etc. When she first began to 
receive, during the reign of Louis Philippe, the 
feeling was very bitter between the Legitimists 
(extreme Royalist party) and the Orleanists. The 
Due d'Orleans often came to them on Saturday 
evenings and always in a good deal of state, with 
handsome carriage, aides-de-camp, etc. She warned 
her Legitimist friends when she knew he was com- 
ing (but she didn't always know) and said she never 
had any trouble or disagreeable scenes. Every 

[291 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

one was perfectly respectful to the duke, but the 
extreme Legitimists went away at once. 

We went quite often to Monsieur and Madame 
Thiers, who received every evening in their big 
gloomy house in the Place St. Georges. It was a 
political centre, — all the Republican party went 
there, and many of his old friends, Orleanists, who 
admired his great intelligence, while disapproving 
his politics, — literary men, journalists, all the di- 
plomatists and distinguished strangers. He had 
people at dinner every night and a small reception 
afterward, — Madame Thiers and her sister, Made- 
moiselle Dosne, doing the honours for him. I be- 
lieve both ladies were very intelligent, but I can't 
truthfully say they had any charm of manner. 
They never looked pleased to see any one, and 
each took comfortable little naps in their arm- 
chairs after dinner — the first comers had sometimes 
rather embarrassing entrances, — but I am told they 
held very much to their receptions. Thiers was 
wonderful; he was a very old man when I knew 
him, but his eyes were very bright and keen, his 
voice strong, and he would talk all the evening 
without any appearance of fatigue. He slept every 
afternoon for two hours, and was quite rested and 
alert by dinner time. It was an interesting group 
of men that stood around the little figure in the 

[30] 



THE ASSEMBLY AT VERSAILLES 

drawing-room after dinner. He himself stood 
almost always leaning against the mantelpiece. 
Prince Orloff, Russian ambassador, was one of 
the habitues of the salon, and I was always de- 
lighted when he would slip away from the group 
of men and join the ladies in Madame Thiers' s 
salon, which was less interesting. He knew every- 
body, French and foreign, and gave me most 
amusing and useful little sketches of all the celeb- 
rities. It was he who told me of old Prince 
Gortschakoff's famous phrase when he heard of 
Thiers's death — (he died at St. Germain in 1877) — 
"Encore une lumiere eteinte quand il y en a si pen 
qui voient clair," — (still another light extinguished, 
when there are so few who see clearly). Many 
have gone of that group, — Casimir Perier, Leon 
Say, Jules Ferry, St. Vallier, Comte Paul de Segur, 
Barthelemy St. Hilaire, — but others remain, 
younger men who were then beginning their polit- 
ical careers and were eager to drink in lessons and 
warnings from the old statesman, who fought gal- 
lantly to the last. 

I found the first winter in Paris as the wife of a 
French deputy rather trying, so different from the 
easy, pleasant life in Rome. That has changed, 
too, of course, with United Italy and Rome the 
capital, but it was a small Rome in our days, most 

[31] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

informal. I don't ever remember having written 
an invitation all the years we lived in Rome. 
Everybody led the same life and we saw each 
other all day, hunting, riding, driving, in the villas 
in the afternoon, generally finishing at the Pincio, 
where there was music. All the carriages drew up 
and the young men came and talked to the women 
exactly as if they were at the opera or in a ball- 
room. When we had music or danced at our 
house, we used to tell some well-known man to 
say "on danse chez Madame King ce soir." That 
was all. Paris society is much stiffer, attaches 
much more importance to visits and reception 
days. 

There is very Uttle informal receiving, no more 
evenings with no amusement of any kind provided, 
and a small table at one end of the room with 
orangeade and cakes, which I remember when I 
was first married (and always in Lent the quartet 
of the Conservatoire playing classical symphonies, 
which of course put a stop to all conversation, as 
people listened to the artists of the Conservatoire 
in a sort of sacred silence). Now one is invited 
each time, there is always music or a comedie, 
sometimes a conference in Lent, and a buffet in 
the dining-room. There is much more luxury, 
and women wear more jewels. There were not 

[32] 






'-Tl'nt^^^ A?|',LV 




< < 




.fc 



y 






' f r* «/▼ 'f I ji 1 1 iiP,3 ill* -^ '^ 



^i-:jAw 





The foyer of the Opera. 



THE ASSEMBLY AT VERSAILLES 

many tiaras when I first knew Paris society; now 
every young woman has one in her corbeille. 

One of the first big things I saw in Paris was the 
opening of the Grand Opera. It was a pretty sight, 
the house crowded with women beautifully dressed 
and wearing fine jewels which showed very little, 
the decoration of the house being very elaborate. 
There was so much light and gilding that the dia- 
monds were quite lost. The two great features of 
the evening were the young King of Spain (the 
father of the present King) , a slight, dark, youthful 
figure, and the Lord Mayor of London, who really 
made much more effect than the King. He was 
dressed in his official robes, had two sheriffs and a 
macebearer, and when he stood at the top of the 
grand staircase he was an imposing figure and the 
public was delighted with him. He was surrounded 
by an admiring crowd when he walked in the foyer. 
Everybody was there and W. pointed out to me 
the celebrities of all the coteries. We had a box at 
the opera and went very regularly. The opera was 
never good, never has been since I have known 
it, but as it is open all the year round, one cannot 
expect to have the stars one hears elsewhere. 
Still it is always a pleasant evening, one sees plenty 
of people to talk to and the music is a cheerful 
accompaniment to conversation. It is astound- 

[33] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

ing how they talk in the boxes and how the pubhc 
submits. The ballet is always good. Halanzier 
was director of the Grand Opera, and we went 
sometimes to his box behind the scenes, which 
was most amusing. He was most dictatorial, oc- 
cupied himself with every detail, — was conse- 
quently an excellent director. I remember seeing 
him inspect the corps de ballet one night, just 
before the curtain went up. He passed down the 
line like a general reviewing his troops, tapping 
lightly with a cane various arms and legs which 
were not in position. He was perfectly smiling 
and good-humoured: "Voyons, voyons, mes pe- 
tites, ce n'est pas cela," — but saw everything. 

What W. liked best was the Theatre Frangais. 
We hadn't a box there, but as so many of our 
friends had, we went very often. Tuesday was 
the fashionable night and the Salle was almost 
as interesting as the stage, particularly if it hap- 
pened to be a premiere, and all the critics and 
journalists were there. Sarah Bernhardt and 
Croizette were both playing those first years. 
They were great rivals and it was interesting to 
see them in the same play, both such fine talents 
yet so totally different. 



[34] 



Ill 

M. WADDINGTON AS MINISTER OF PUBLIC 
INSTRUCTION 

TN March, 1876, W. was made, for the second 
-*- time, "Ministre de I'lnstruction Pubhque et 
des Beaux Arts," with M. Dufaure President du 
Conseil, Due Decazes at the Foreign Office, and 
Leon Say at the finances. His nomination was a 
surprise to us. We didn't expect it at all. There 
had been so many discussions, so many names 
put forward. It seemed impossible to come to an 
understanding and form a cabinet which would 
be equally acceptable to the marshal and to the 
Chambers. I came in rather late one afternoon 
while the negotiations were going on, and was told 
by the servants that M. Leon Say was waiting in 
W.'s library to see him. W. came a few minutes 
afterward, and the two gentlemen remained a long 
time talking. They stopped in the drawing-room 
on their way to the door, and Say said to me: "Eh 
bien, madame, je vous apporte une portefeuille et 
des felicitations." "Before I accept the felicita- 

[35] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

tions, I would like to know which portfolio." Of 
course when he said, "Public instruction," I was 
pleased, as I knew it was the only one W. cared 
for. My brother-in-law, Richard Waddington, 
senator of the Seine Inferieure,* and one or two 
friends came to see us in the evening, and the 
gentlemen talked late into the night, discussing 
programmes, possibilities, etc. All the next day 
the conferences went on, and when the new cabinet 
was presented to the marshal, he received them 
graciously if not warmly. W. said both Dufaure 
and Decazes were quite wonderful, realising the 
state of affairs exactly, and knowing the temper 
of the house, which was getting more advanced 
every day and more difficult to manage. 

W. at once convoked all the officials and staff 
of the ministry. He made very few changes, 
merely taking the young Count de Lasteyrie, now 
Marquis de Lasteyrie, grandnephew of the Mar- 
quis de Lafayette, son of M. Jules de Lasteyrie, a 
senator and devoted friend of the Orleans family, 
as his chef de cabinet. Two or three days after 
the new cabinet was announced, W. took me to 
the Elysee to pay my official visit to the Marechale 
de MacMahon. She received us up-stairs in a 

* My brother-in-law, Richard Waddington, senator, died in June, 
1913, some time after these notes were written. 

[36] 



WADDINGTON AS MINISTER 

pretty salon looking out on the garden. She was 
very civil, not a particularly gracious manner — 
gave me the impression of a very energetic, practi- 
cal woman — what most Frenchwomen are. I was 
very much struck with her writing-table, which 
looked most businesslike. It was covered with 
quantities of letters, papers, cards, circulars of all 
kinds — she attended to all household matters her- 
self. I always heard (though she did not tell me) 
that she read every letter that was addressed to 
her, and she must have had hundreds of begging 
letters. She was very charitable, much interested 
in all good works, and very kind to all artists. 
Whenever a letter came asking for money, she had 
the case investigated, and if the story was true, 
gave practical help at once. I was dismayed at 
first with the number of letters received from all 
over France asking my intercession with the min- 
ister on every possible subject from a "monument 
historique " to be restored, to a pension given to 
an old schoolmaster no longer able to work, with a 
large family to support. It was perfectly impos- 
sible for me to answer them. Being a foreigner 
and never having lived in France, I didn't really 
know anything about the various questions. W. 
was too busy to attend to such small matters, so 
I consulted M. de L., chef de cabinet, and we 

[37] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

agreed that I should send all the correspondence 
which was not strictly personal to him, and he 
would have it examined in the "bureau." The 
first few weeks of W.'s ministry were very trying 
to me — I went to see so many people, — so many 
people came to see me, — all strangers with whom 
I had nothing in common. Such dreary conver- 
sations, never getting beyond the most ordinary 
commonplace phrases, — such an absolutely dif- 
ferent world from any I had ever lived in. 

It is very difficult at first for any woman who 
marries a foreigner to make her life in her new 
country. There must be so many things that are 
different — better perhaps sometimes — but not what 
one has been accustomed to, — and I think more 
difficult in France than in any other country. 
French people are set in their ways, and there is so 
little sympathy with anything that is not French. 
I was struck with that absence of sympathy at 
some of the first dinners I went to. The talk was 
exclusively French, almost Parisian, very personal, 
with stories and allusions to people and things I 
knew nothing about. No one dreamed of talking 
to me about my past life — or America, or any of 
my early associations — yet I was a stranger — one 
would have thought they might have taken a little 
more trouble to find some topics of general inter- 

138] 



WADDINGTON AS MINISTER 

est. Even now, after all these years, the differ- 
ence of nationality counts. Sometimes when I 
am discussing with very intimate friends some 
question and I find that I cannot understand their 
views and they cannot understand mine, they 
always come back to the real difiiculty: *'Ecoutez, 
chere amie, vous etes d'une autre race." I rather 
complained to W. after the first three or four din- 
ners — it seemed to me bad manners, but he said 
no, I was the wife of a French political man, and 
every one took for granted I was interested in the 
conversation — certainly no one intended any rude- 
ness. The first big dinner I went to that year 
was at the Elysee — the regular official dinner for 
the diplomatic corps and the Government. I had 
Baron von Zuylen, the Dutch minister, one of our 
great friends, on one side of me, Leon Renault, 
prefet de police, on the other. Leon Renault was 
very interesting, very clever — an excellent prefet 
de police. Some of his stories were most amusing. 
The dinner was very good (always were in the mar- 
shal's time), not long, and mercifully the room 
was not too hot. Sometimes the heat was terrible. 
There were quite a number of people in the eve- 
ning — the music of the garde republicaine playing, 
and a buffet in the dining-room which was always 
crowded. We never stayed very late, as W. always 

[39] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

had papers to sign when we got home. Sometimes 
when there was a great press of work his "signa- 
tures" kept him two hours. I don't think the 
marshal enjoyed the receptions very much. Like 
most soldiers he was an early riser, and the late 
hours and constant talking tired him. 

I liked our dinners and receptions at the minis- 
try. All the intelligence of France passed through 
our rooms. People generally came early — by ten 
o'clock the rooms were quite full. Every one was 
announced, and it was most interesting to hear 
the names of all the celebrities in every branch of 
art and science. It was only a fleeting impression, 
as the guests merely spoke to me at the door and 
passed on. In those days, hardly any one shook 
hands unless they were fairly intimate — the men 
never. They made me low bows some distance 
off and rarely stopped to exchange a few words 
with me. Some of the women, not many, shook 
hands. It was a fatiguing evening, as I stood so 
long, and a procession of strangers passed before 
me. The receptions finished early — every one had 
gone by eleven o'clock except a few loiterers at 
the buffet. There are always a certain number 
of people at the big official receptions whose prin- 
cipal object in coming seems to be to make a com- 
fortable meal. The servants always told me there 

[40] 



WADDINGTON AS MINISTER 

was nothing left after a big party. There were no 
invitations — the reception was announced in the 
papers, so any one who felt he had the slightest 
claim upon the minister appeared at the party. 
Some of the dresses were funny, but there was 
nothing eccentric — no women in hats, carrying ba- 
bies in their arms, such as one used to see in the 
old days in America at the President's reception 
at the White House, Washington — some very sim- 
ple black silk dresses hardly low — and of course 
a great many pretty women very well dressed. 
Some of my American friends often came with 
true American curiosity, wanting to see a phase 
of French life which was quite novel to them. 

W. remained two years as Minister of Public 
Instruction, and my life became at once very in- 
teresting, very full. We didn't live at the min- 
istry — it was not really necessary. All the work 
was over before dinner, except the "signatures," 
which W. could do just as well in his library at 
home. We went over and inspected the Hotel 
du Ministere in the rue de Grenelle before we 
made our final decision, but it was not really 
tempting. There were fine reception-rooms and 
a pretty garden, but the living-rooms were small, 
not numerous, and decidedly gloomy. Of course 
I saw much less of W. He never came home to 

[41] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

breakfast, except on Sunday, as it was too far 
from the rue de Grenelle to the Etoile. The Arc 
de Triomphe stands in the Place de )' Etoile at 
the top of the Champs-Elysees. All the great 
avenues, Alma, Jena, Kleber, and the adjacent 
streets are known as the Quartier de I'Etoile. It 
was before the days of telephones, so whenever an 
important communication was to be made to him 
when he was at home in the evening, a dragoon 
galloped up with his little black bag from which he 
extracted his papers. It made quite an excitement 
in our quiet street the first time he arrived after 
ten o'clock. We just managed our morning ride, 
and then there were often people waiting to speak 
to W. before we started, and always when he came 
back. There was a great amount of patronage 
attached to his ministry, nominations to all the 
universities, lycees, schools, etc., and, what was 
most agreeable to me, boxes at all the government 
theatres, — the Grand Opera, Opera Comique, Fran- 
Qais, Odeon, and Conservatoire. Every Monday 
morning we received the list for the week, and, 
after making our own selection, distributed them 
to the official world generally, — sometimes to our 
own personal friends. The boxes of the Frangais, 
Opera, and Conservatoire were much appreciated. 
I went very regularly to the Sunday afternoon 

[42] 



WADDINGTON AS MINISTER 

concerts at the Conservatoire, where all classical 
music was splendidly given. They confined them- 
selves generally to the strictly classic, but were 
beginning to play a little Schumann that year. 
Some of the faces of the regular habitues became 
most familiar to me. There were three or four old 
men with grey hair sitting in the first row of 
stalls (most uncomfortable seats) who followed 
every note of the music, turning around and 
frowning at any unfortunate person in a box who 
dropped a fan or an opera-glass. It was funny to 
hear the hum of satisfaction when any well-known 
movement of Beethoven or Mozart was attacked. 
The orchestra was perfect, at its best I think in 
the "scherzos" which they took in beautiful style 
— so light and sure. I liked the instrumental part 
much better than the singing. French voices, the 
women's particularly, are thin, as a rule. I think 
they sacrifice too much to the "diction," — don't 
bring out the voices enough — but the style and 
training are perfect of their kind. 

The Conservatoire is quite as much a social 
feature as a school of music. It was the thing 
to do on Sunday afternoon. No invitation was 
more appreciated, as it was almost impossible to 
have places unless one was invited by a friend. 
All the boxes and seats (the hall is small) belong 

[43] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

to subscribers and have done so for one or two 
generations. Many marriages are made there. 
There are very few theatres in Paris to which girls 
can be taken, but the Opera Comique and the 
Conservatoire are very favourite resorts. When 
a marriage is pending the young lady, very well 
dressed (always in the simplest tenue de jeune 
fille) is taken to the Conservatoire or the Opera 
Comique by her father and mother, and very 
often her grandmother. She sits in front of the 
box and the young man in the stalls, where he 
can study his future wife without committing him- 
self. The difference of dress between the jeune 
fille and the jeune femme is very strongly 
marked in France. The French girl never wears 
lace or jewels or feathers or heavy material of any 
kind, quite unlike her English or American con- 
temporaries, who wear what they like. The wed- 
ding-dress is classic, a simple, very long dress of 
white satin, and generally a tulle veil over the 
face. When there is a handsome lace veil in the 
family, the bride sometimes wears it, but no lace 
on her dress. The first thing the young married 
woman does is to wear a very long velvet dress 
with feathers in her hair. 

I think on the whole the arranged marriages 
turn out as well as any others. They are gen- 

[44] 



WADDINGTON AS MINISTER 

erally made by people of the same monde, ac- 
customed to the same way of Hving, and the 
fortunes as nearly alike as possible. Everything 
is calculated. The young couple usually spend 
the summer with parents or parents-in-law, in the 
chateau, and I know some cases where there are 
curious details about the number of lamps that 
can be lighted in their rooms, and the use of the 
carriage on certain days. I am speaking of course 
of purely French marriages. To my American 
ideas it seemed very strange when I first came to 
Europe, but a long residence in a foreign country 
certainly modifies one's impressions. Years ago, 
when we were living in Rome, four sisters, before 
any of us were married, a charming Frenchwoman, 
Duchesse de B., who came often to the house, was 
very worried about this family of girls, all very 
happy at home and contented with their lives. It 
was quite true we danced and hunted and made a 
great deal of music, without ever troubling our- 
selves about the future. The duchesse couldn't 
understand it, used often to talk to mother very 
seriously. She came one day with a proposal of 
marriage — a charming man, a Frenchman, not too 
young, with a good fortune, a title, and a chateau, 
had seen Madam King's daughters in the ballroom 
and hunting-field, and would very much like to be 

[45] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

presented and make his cour. "Which one?" we 
naturally asked, but the answer was vague. It 
sounded so curiously impersonal that we could 
hardly take it seriously. However, we suggested 
that the young man should come and each one of 
the four would show off her particular talent. One 
would play and one would sing (rather like the song 
in the children's book, "one could dance and one 
could sing, and one could play the violin"), and the 
third, the polyglot of the family, could speak sev- 
eral languages. We were rather puzzled as to what 
my eldest sister could do, as she was not very so- 
ciable and never spoke to strangers if she could help 
it, so we decided she must be very well dressed and 
preside at the tea-table behind an old-fashioned 
silver urn that we always used — looking like a 
stately maitresse de maison receiving her guests. 
We confided all these plans to the duchesse, but 
she was quite put out with us, wouldn't bring the 
young man nor tell us his name. We never knew 
who he was. Since I have been a Frenchwoman 
(devant la loi) — I think all Americans remain 
American no matter where they marry, — I have 
interested myself three or four times in made 
marriages, which have generally turned out well. 
There were very few Americans married in France 
all those years, now there are legions of all kinds. 

[46] 



WADDINGTON AS MINISTER 

I don't remember any in the official parliamentary 
world I lived in the first years of my marriage — 
nor English either. It was absolutely French, and 
rather borne French. Very few of the people, 
the women especially, had any knowledge or ex- 
perience of foreign countries, and didn't care to 
have, — France was enough for them. 

W. was very happy at the Ministry of Public 
Instruction, — all the educational questions inter- 
ested him so much and the tournees en province 
and visits to the big schools and universities, 
— some of them, in the south of France partic- 
ularly, singularly wanting in the most elemen- 
tary details of hygiene and cleanliness, and it was 
very difficult to make the necessary changes, giv- 
ing more light, air, and space. Routine is a power- 
ful factor in this very conservative country, where 
so many things exist simply because they have 
always existed. Some of his letters from Bor- 
deaux, Toulouse, and Montpellier were most in- 
teresting. As a rule he was very well received 
and got on very well, strangely enough, with the 
clergy, particularly the haut clerge, bishops and 
cardinals. His being a Protestant was rather a 
help to him; he could take an impartial view of 
things. 

At Bordeaux he stayed at the Prefecture, where 

[47] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

he was very comfortable, but the days were fa- 
tiguing. He said he hadn't worked so hard for 
years. He started at nine in the morning, visiting 
schools and universities, came home to breakfast 
at twelve, and immediately after had a small re- 
ception, rectors, professors, and people connected 
with the schools he wanted to talk to, at three 
started again seeing more schools and going con- 
scientiously over the buildings from basement to 
garret, — then visits to the cardinal, archbishop, 
general commanding, etc. — a big dinner and re- 
ception in the evening, the cardinal present in his 
red robes, his coadjutor in purple, the officers in 
uniform, and all the people connected in any way 
with the university, who were pleased to see their 
chief. There was a total absence of Bonapartist 
senators and deputies (which was not surprising, 
as W. had always been in violent opposition to the 
Empire), who were rather numerous in these 
parts. W. was really quite exhausted when he 
got back to Paris — said it was absolute luxury to 
sit quietly and read in his library, and not talk. 
It wasn't a luxury that he enjoyed very much, for 
whenever he was in the house there was always 
some one talking to him in his study and others 
waiting in the drawing-room. Every minute of 
the day he was occupied. People were always 

[481 



WADDINGTON AS MINISTER 

coming to ask for something for themselves or 
some members of their family, always candidates 
for the Institute, anxiously inquiring what their 
chances were, and if he had recommended them to 
his friends. It is striking even in this country of 
functionaries (I think there are more small public 
employees in France than in any other country) 
how many applicants there were always for the 
most insignificant places — a Frenchman loves a 
cap with gold braid and gilt buttons on his coat. 
All the winter of 1876, which saw the end of the 
National Assembly and the beginning of a new 
regime, was an eventful one in parliamentary cir- 
cles. I don't know if the country generally was 
very much excited about a new constitution and a 
change of government. I don't think the country 
in France (the small farmers and peasants) are 
ever much excited about the form of government. 
As long as the crops are good and there is no war 
to take away their sons and able-bodied men, they 
don't care, often don't know, whether a king or 
an emperor is reigning over them. They say there 
are some far-off villages half hidden in the forests 
and mountains who still believe that a king and a 
Bourbon is reigning in France. Something had 
to be decided; the provisoire could no longer 
continue; the country could not go on without a 

[49] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

settled government. All the arguments and ne- 
gotiations of that period have been so often told, 
that I will not go into any details. The two cen- 
tres, centre droit and centre gauche, had ev- 
erything in their hands as the great moderating 
elements of the Assembly, but the conflicting claims 
of the various parties. Legitimist, Orleanist, Bona- 
partist, and advanced Left, made the question a 
very difficult one. 

W. as a member of the Comite des Trente 
was very much occupied and preoccupied. He 
came back generally very late from Versailles, and, 
when he did dine at home, either went out again 
after dinner to some of the numerous meetings at 
different houses or had people at home. I think 
the great majority of deputies were honestly trying 
to do what they thought best for the country, and 
when one remembers the names and personalities 
on both sides — MacMahon, Broglie, d'Audiffret- 
Pasquier, Buffet, Dufaure, and Thiers, Casimir 
Perier, Leon Say, Jules Simon, Jules Ferry, Frey- 
cinet, and many others, it is impossible to think 
that any of those men were animated by any 
spirit other than love of the country and an ardent 
desire to see some stable government restored 
which would enable France to take her place again 
among the great powers. Unfortunately the differ- 

[50] 




Meeting of officers of the National Assembly, and of delegates of the new Chambers, 
in the salon of Hercules, palace of Versailles. 

Fioui L'VluDttation, Marcli U, 18T8. 



WADDINGTON AS MINISTER 

ence of opinion as to the form of government made 
things very difficult. Some of the young deputies, 
just fresh from the war and smarting under a sense 
of humihation, were very violent in their abuse of 
any Royalist and particularly Bonapartist restora- 
tion. 



[51] 



IV 

THE SOCIAL SIDE OF A MINISTER'S WIFE 

MY first big dinner at the Ministry of Public 
Instruction rather intimidated me. We were 
fifty people — I the only lady. I went over to the 
ministry in the afternoon to see the table, which 
was very well arranged with quantities of flowers, 
beautiful Sevres china, not much silver — there is 
very little left in France, it having all been melted 
at the time of the Revolution. The official din- 
ners are always well done in Paris. I suppose the 
traditions of the Empire have been handed down. 
We arrived a few minutes before eight, all the staff 
and directors already there, and by ten minutes 
after eight every one had arrived. I sat between 
Gerome, the painter, and Renan, two very dif- 
ferent men but each quite charming, — Gerome 
tall, slight, animated, talking very easily about 
everything. He told me who a great many of the 
people were, with a little commentary on their 
profession and career which was very useful to 
me, as I knew so few of them. Renan was short, 
stout, with a very large head, almost unprepos- 

[52] 



THE SOCIAL SIDE 

sessing-looking, but with a great charm of manner 
and the most dehghtf ul smile and voice imaginable. 
He often dined with us in our own house, en petit 
comite, and was always charming. He was one 
of those happy mortals (there are not many) who 
made every subject they discuss interesting. 

After that first experience, I liked the big men's 
dinners very much. There was no general con- 
versation; I talked exclusively to my two neigh- 
bours, but as they were always distinguished in 
some branch of art, science, or literature, the talk 
was brilliant, and I found the hour our dinner 
lasted a very short one. W. was very particular 
about not having long dinners. Later, at the Min- 
istry of Foreign Affairs, where we sometimes had 
eighty guests, the dinner was never over an hour. 
I did not remain the whole evening at the men's 
dinners. As soon as they dispersed to talk and 
smoke, I came away, leaving W. to entertain his 
guests. We often had big receptions with music 
and comedie. At one of our first big parties 
we had several of the Orleans family. I was 
rather nervous, as I had never received roy- 
alty, — in fact I had never spoken to a royal prince 
or princess. I had lived a great deal in Rome, as 
a girl, during the last days of Pius IX, and I was 
never in Paris during the Empire. When we went 

[53] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

back to Rome one winter, after the accession of 
King Victor Emmanuel, I found myself for the 
first time in a room with royalties, the Prince and 
Princesse de Piemont. I remember quite well 
being so surprised by seeing two of the Roman 
men we knew very well come backward into the 
ballroom where we were sitting. I thought they 
must be anticipating the Mardi Gras and were 
masquerading a little, didn't realise that every 
one was standing. I remained sitting for a mo- 
ment (much to the horror of one of the English 
secretaries who was with us and who thought we 
were going to make a spread-eagle American dem- 
onstration and remain sitting when royalty ap- 
peared). However, by some sort of instinct, we 
rose too (perhaps to see what was going on), just 
as the princes passed. Princess Marguerite looked 
charming, dressed in white, with her splendid 
pearls and beautiful fair hair. 

When it was decided that we should ask the 
Orleans princes to our party, I thought I would 
go to see the Due Decazes, the foreign minister, a 
charming man and charming colleague, to get some 
precise information about my part of the enter- 
tainment. He couldn't think what I wanted when 
I invaded his cabinet, and was much amused when 
I stated my case. 

[541 



THE SOCIAL SIDE 

"There is nothing unusual in receiving the 
princes at a ministry. You must do as you have 
always done." 

"But that is just the question, I have never 
done. I have never in my life exchanged a word 
with a royal personage." 

"It is not possible!" 

"It is absolutely true; I have never lived any- 
where where there was a court." 

When he saw that I was in earnest he was as 
nice as possible, told me exactly what I wanted to 
know, — that I need not say " Altesse royale" every 
time I spoke, merely occasionally, as they all like 
it, — that I must speak in the third person, "Ma- 
dame veut-elle," "Monseigneur veut-il me per- 
mettre," etc., also that I must always be at the 
door when a princess arrived and conduct her 
myself to her seat. 

"But if I am at one end of the long enfilade of 
rooms taking the Comtesse de Paris to her seat 
and another princess (Joinville or Chartres) should 
arrive; what has to be done.^" 

"Your husband must always be at the door 
with his chef de cabinet, who will replace him 
while he takes the princess to her place." 

The Marquise de L., a charming old lady with 
white hair, beautiful blue eyes, and pink cheeks, a 

[55] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

great friend of the Orleans family, went with me 
when I made my round of visits to thank the royal 
ladies for accepting our invitation. We found no 
one but the Princesse Marguerite, daughter of the 
Due de Nemours, who was living at Neuilly. I 
had all my instructions from the marquise, how 
many courtesies to make, how to address her, and 
above all not to speak until the princess spoke to 
me. We were shown into a pretty drawing-room, 
opening on a garden, where the princess was wait- 
ing, standing at one end of the room. Madame 
de L. named me, I made my courtesies, the prin- 
cess shook hands, and then we remained standing, 
facing each other. She didn't say anything. I 
stood perfectly straight and quiet, waiting. She 
changed colour, moved her hands nervously, was 
evidently overcome with shyness, but didn't utter 
a sound. It seemed very long, was really only 
a few seconds, but I was getting rather nervous 
when suddenly a child ran across the garden. 
That broke the ice and she asked me the classic 
royal question, " Avez-vous des enfants, madame?" 
I had only one, and he was rather small, but still 
his nurse, his teeth, and his food carried me on 
for a little while and after that we had some gen- 
eral conversation, but I can't say the visit was 
really interesting. As long as I was in public life 

[561 



THE SOCIAL SIDE 

I regretted that I had but the one child, — children 
and nurseries and schoolrooms were always an un- 
failing topic of conversation. Frenchwomen of 
all classes take much more interest in the details 
of their nurseries and the education and bringing-up 
of their children than we Anglo-Saxons do. I know 
several mammas who followed all the course of 
their sons' studies when they were preparing their 
baccalaureat, even to writing the compositions. 
The head nurse (English) who takes entire charge 
of her nursery, who doesn't like any interference, 
and brings the children to their mother at stated 
hours, doesn't exist in France. 

Our party was very brilliant, all sorts of nota- 
bilities of all kinds, and the leading Paris artists 
from the Grand Opera, Opera Comique, and the 
Frangais. As soon as the performance was over 
W. told me I must go and thank the artists; he 
could not leave his princes. I started off to 
the last of the long suite of salons where they 
were all assembled. Comte de L., W.'s chef de 
cabinet, went with me, and we were preceded by a 
huissier with sword and chain, who piloted us 
through the crowd. I felt very shy when I arrived 
in the greenroom. The artists were drawn up in 
two rows, the women on one side, the men on 
the other, all eyes of course fixed upon madame la 

[57] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

ministresse. Madame Carvalho, Sarah Bernhardt, 
and Croizette were standing at the head of the 
long Hne of women; Faure, Talazac, Delaunay, 
CoqueKn, on the other side. I went first all along 
the line of women, then came back by the men. I 
realised instantly after the first word of thanks and 
interest how easy it is for princes, or any one in 
high places, to give pleasure. They all responded 
so smilingly and naturally to everything I said. 
After the first two or three words, I didn't mind at 
all, and found myself discussing acoustics, the diffi- 
culty of playing any well-known part without cos- 
tumes, scenery, etc., the inconvenience of having 
the public so near, quite easily. We often had 
music and recitations at our parties, and that was 
alwaj^s a great pleasure to me. I remember so 
well one evening when we had the chorus of the 
Conservatoire and they sang quite beautifully the 
old "Plaisirs d'Amour" of our childhood. It had 
a great success and they were obliged to repeat it. 
W. made one great innovation in the dress of the 
ladies of the Conservatoire chorus. They were 
always dressed in white, which was very well for 
the young, slight figures, but was less happy for a 
stout middle-aged lady. So after much discussion 
it was decided to adopt black as the official dress 
and I must say it was an enormous improvement. 

[58] 



THE SOCIAL SIDE 

All sorts of interesting people came to see us at 
the Ministry of Public Instruction, — among others 
the late Emperor of Brazil, Don Pedro de Bra- 
gance, who spent some months in Paris that year 
with his daughter, the young Comtesse d'Eu. He 
was a tall, good-looking man, with a charming 
easy manner, very cultivated and very keen about 
everything — art, literature, politics. His gentle- 
men said he had the energy of a man of twenty- 
five, and he was well over middle age when he 
was in Paris. They were quite exhausted some- 
times after a long day of visits and sightseeing 
with him. He was an early riser. One of the first 
rendezvous he gave W. was at nine o'clock in the 
morning, which greatly disturbed that gentleman's 
habits. He was never an early riser, worked 
always very late (said his best despatches were 
written after midnight), and didn't care about be- 
ginning his day too early. Another interesting 
personality was Mommsen, the German historian 
and savant. He was a picturesque-looking old 
man with keen blue eyes and a quantity of white 
hair. I don't think anything modern interested 
him very much. He was an old man when I first 
saw him, and looked even older than his age. He 
and W. used to plunge into very long, learned dis- 
cussions over antiquities and medals. W. said the 

[591 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

hours with Mommsen rested him, such a change 
from the "shop" talk always mixed with politics 
in France. 

We often had political breakfasts at home (more 
breakfasts than dinners) . Our Aisne deputies and 
senators were not very mondains, didn't care 
much to dine out. They w^ere pleasant enough 
when they talked about subjects that interested 
them. Henri Martin, senator of the Aisne, was 
an old-fashioned Republican, absolutely convinced 
that no other government would ever succeed in 
France, but he was moderate. St. Vallier, also a 
senator from the Aisne, was nervous and easily 
discouraged when things didn't go smoothly, but 
he too thought the Republic was the only possible 
government now, whatever his preferences might 
have been formerly. 

W.'s ministry came to an end on the famous 
16th of May, 1877, when Marshal MacMahon sud- 
denly took matters in his own hands and dismissed 
his cabinet presided over by M. Jules Simon. 
Things had not been going smoothly for some time, 
could not between two men of such absolute dif- 
ference of origin, habits, and ideas. Still, the fa- 
mous letter written by the marshal to Jules Simon 
was a thunderclap. I was walking about the 
Champs-Elysees and Faubourg St. Honore on the 

[60] 




Theodor Mommsen. 

From a paiatiiiy hy Franz voii Lenbach. 



THE SOCIAL SIDE 

morning of the 16th of May, and saw all the car- 
riages, our own included, waiting at the Ministry 
of the Interior, where the conseil was sitting. 
I went home to breakfast, thought W. was later 
than usual, but never dreamed of what was hap- 
pening. When he finally appeared, quite com- 
posed and smiling, with his news, "We are out of 
office; the marshal has sent us all about our busi- 
ness," I could hardly believe it, even when he told 
me all the details. I had known for a long time 
that things were not going well, but there were 
always so much friction and such opposing ele- 
ments in the cabinet that I had not attached much 
importance to the accounts of stormy sittings and 
thought things would settle down. 

W. said the marshal was very civil to him, but 
it was evident that he could not stand Jules Simon 
any longer and the various measures that he felt 
were impending. We had many visitors after 
breakfast, all much excited, wondering what the 
next step would be — if the Chambers would be 
dissolved, the marshal trying to impose a cabinet 
of the Right or perhaps form another moderate 
liberal cabinet without Jules Simon, but retaining 
some of his ministers. It was my reception after- 
noon, and while I was sitting quietly in my draw- 
ing-room talking to some of my friends, making 

[611 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

plans for the summer, quite pleased to have W. to 
myself again, the butler hurried into the room tell- 
ing me that the Marechale de MacMahon was on 
the stairs, coming to make me a visit. I was very- 
much surprised, as she never came to see me. We 
met very rarely, except on official occasions, and 
she made no secret of her dislike to the official 
Republican ladies (but she was always absolutely 
correct if not enthusiastic). I had just time to get 
to the head of the stairs to receive her. She was 
very amiable, a little embarrassed, took a cup of 
tea — said the marshal was very sorry to part with 
W., he had never had any trouble or disagreement 
with him of any kind, but that it was impossible 
to go on with a cabinet when neither party had 
any confidence in the other. I quite agreed, said 
it was the fortunes of war; I hoped the marshal 
would find another premier who would be more 
sympathetic with him, and then we talked of other 
things. 

My friends were quite amused. One of them, 
Marquise de T., knew the Marechale quite well, 
and said she was going to ask her if she was obliged 
to make visit es de condoleance to the wives of 
all the fallen ministers. W. was rather astonished 
when I told him who had come to tea with me, 
and thought the conversation must have been 

[62] 



THE SOCIAL SIDE 

difficult. I told him, not at all, once the necessary- 
phrases about the departing ministers were over. 
The piano was open, music littered about; she was 
fond of music and she admired very much a portrait 
of father as a boy in the Harrow dress, asked who 
it was and what the dress was. She was a perfect 
woman of the world, and no one was uncomfortable. 
It seemed quite strange and very pleasant to 
take up my old life again after two years of public 
life. W. breakfasted at home, w^ent to the Senate 
every day and to the Institute on Fridays and we 
dined with our friends and had small dinners in 
our own house instead of official banquets at all 
the ministries (usually from Potel and Chabot at 
so much a head). Politics were very lively all 
summer. The Chambers were dissolved almost at 
once after the constitution of the new cabinet, 
presided over by the Due de Broglie. It was evi- 
dent from the first moment that the new ministry 
wouldn't, couldn't live. (The Due de Broglie was 
quite aware of the fact. His first words on tak- 
ing office were: "On nous a jetes a I'eau, main- 
tenant il faut nager.") He made a very good 
fight, but he had that worst of all faults for a 
leader, he was unpopular. He was a brilliant, 
cultured speaker, but had a curt, dictatorial 
manner, with an air always of looking down 

[63] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

upon his public. So different from his colleague, 
the Due Decazes, whose charming, courteous 
manners and nice blue eyes made him friends 
even among his adversaries. There is a well- 
known story told of the two dukes which shows 
exactly the personality of the men. Some one, a 
deputy I think, wanted something very much 
which either of the gentlemen could give. He went 
first to the Due Decazes, then Minister of Foreign 
Affairs, who received him charmingly, was most 
kind and courteous, but didn't do what the man 
wanted. He then went to the Due de Broglie, 
President du Conseil, who was busy, received him 
very curtly, cut short his explanations, and was 
in fact extremely disagreeable but did the thing, 
and the man loved Decazes and hated de Broglie. 
All sorts of rumours were afloat; we used to hear 
the wildest stories and plans. One day W. came 
in looking rather preoccupied. There was an idea 
that the Right were going to take most strin- 
gent measures, arrest all the ministers, members of 
Jules Simon's cabinet, many of the prominent 
Liberals. He said it was quite possible and then 
gave me various instructions. I was above all to 
make no fuss if they really came to arrest him. 
He showed me where all his keys, papers, and 
money were, told me to go instantly to his uncle, 

[64] 



THE SOCIAL SIDE 

Mr. Lutteroth, who lived next door. He was an 
old diplomat, knew everybody, and would give 
me very good advice. I did not feel very happy, 
but like so many things that are foretold, nothing 
ever happened. 

Another rumour, from the extreme Left this 
time, was that a large armed force under the com- 
mand of a well-known general, very high up in his 
career, was to assemble in the north at Lille, a 
strong contingent of Republicans were to join them 
to be ready to act. I remember quite well two 
of W.'s friends coming in one morning, full of en- 
thusiasm for this plan. I don't think they quite 
knew what they were going to do with their army. 
W. certainly did not. He listened to all the de- 
tails of the plan; they gave him the name of the 
general, supposed to have very Republican sympa- 
thies (not generally the case with oflficers), the 
number of regiments, etc., who would march at a 
given signal, but when he said, "It is possible, you 
might get a certain number of men together, but 
what would you do with them.''" they were rather 
nonplussed. They hadn't got any further than a 
grand patriotic demonstration, with the military, 
drums beating, flags flying, and the Marseillaise 
being howled by an excited crowd. No such ex- 
treme measures, however, were ever carried out. 

[65] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

From the first moment it was evident that a large 
Repubhcan majority would be returned; almost 
all the former deputies were re-elected and a num- 
ber of new ones, more advanced in their opinion. 
In the country it was the only topic of conversation. 
Parliament was dissolved in June, 1877, but we 
remained in town until the end of July. It wasn't 
very warm and many people remained until the 
end of the session. The big schools too only 
break up on the 15th of July, and many parents 
remain in Paris. The Republican campaign had 
already begun, and there were numerous little 
dinners and meetings when plans and possibilities 
were discussed. W. got back usually very late 
from Versailles. When he knew the sitting would 
be very late he sent me word and I used to go and 
dine with mother, but sometimes he was kept on 
there from hour to hour. I had some long waits 
before we could dine, and Hubert, the coachman, 
used to spend hours in the courtyard of the Gare 
St. Lazare waiting for his master. We had a big 
bay mare, a very fast trotter, which always did the 
train service, and the two were stationed there 
sometimes from six-thirty to nine-thirty, but they 
never seemed the worse for it. W., though a very 
considerate man for his servants generally, never 
worried at all about keeping his coachmen and 

[66] 



THE SOCIAL SIDE 

horses waiting. He said the coachmen were the 
most warmly dressed men in Paris, always took 
care to be well covered, and we never had fancy, 
high-stepping horses, but ordinary strong ones, 
which could wait patiently. W. said the talk in 
the Chambers and in the lobbies was quite wild 
— every sort of extravagant proposition was made. 
There were many conferences with the Due d'Au- 
diffret-Pasquier, Due de Broglie — with Casimir 
Perier, Leon Say, Gambetta, Jules Ferry, and 
Freycinet — where the best men on both sides tried 
hard to come to an agreement. W. went several 
times in August to see M. Thiers, who was settled 
at St. Germain. The old statesman was as keen as 
ever, receiving every day all sorts of deputations, 
advising, warning, encouraging, and quite confi- 
dent as to the result of the elections. People were 
looking to him as the next President, despite his 
great age. However, he was not destined to see 
the triumph of his ideas. He died suddenly at 
St. Germain on the 3d of September. W. said his 
funeral was a remarkable sight — thousands of 
people followed the cortege — all Paris showing 
a last respect to the liberateur du territoire 
(though there were still clubs where he was spoken 
of as le sinistre vieillard). In August W. went 
to his Conseil-General at Laon, and I went down 

[67] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

to my brother-in-law's place at St. Leger near 
Rouen. We were a very happy cosmopolitan fam- 
ily-party. My mother-in-law was born a Scotch- 
woman (Chisholm). She was a fine type of the 
old-fashioned cultivated lady, with a charming 
polite manner, keenly interested in all that was 
going on in the world. She was an old lady 
when I married, and had outlived almost all her 
contemporaries, but she had a beautiful old age, 
surrounded by children and grandchildren. She 
had lived through many vicissitudes from the time 
of her marriage, when she arrived at the Chateau 
of St. Remy in the Department of Eure-et-Loire 
(where my husband, her eldest son, was born), 
passing through triumphal arches erected in hon- 
our of the young bride, to the last days when the 
fortunes of the family were diminished by revo- 
lutions and political and business crises in France. 
They moved from St. Remy, selling the chateau, 
and built a house on the top of a green hill near 
Rouen, quite shut in by big trees, and with a lovely 
view from the Rond Point — the highest part of the 
garden, over Rouen — with the spires of the ca- 
thedral in the distance. I used to find her every 
morning when I went to her room, sitting at the 
window, her books and knitting on a table near — 
looking down on the lawn and the steep winding 

[68] 



THE SOCIAL SIDE 

path that came up from the garden, — where she had 
seen three generations of her dear ones pass every 
day — ^first her husband, then her sons — now her 
grandsons. My sister-in-law, R.'s wife, was also 
an Englishwoman; the daughter of the house had 
married her cousin, de Bunsen, who had been a 
German diplomatist, and who had made nearly all 
his career in Italy, at the most interesting period 
of her history, when she was struggling for eman- 
cipation from the Austrian rule and independence. 
I was an American, quite a new element in the 
family circle. We had many and most animated 
discussions over all sorts of subjects, in two or 
three languages, at the tea-table under the big 
tree on the lawn. French and English were always 
going, and often German, as de Bunsen always 
spoke to his daughter in German. My mother-in- 
law, who knew three or four languages, did not at 
all approve of the careless habit we had all got into 
of mixing our languages and using French or 
Italian words when we were speaking English — 
if they came more easily. She made a rule that 
we should use only one language at meals — she 
didn't care which one, but we must keep to it. 
My brother-in-law was standing for the deputa- 
tion. We didn't see much of him in the daytime 
— his electors and his visits and speeches and ban- 

[69] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRE^XH^YOMAN 

quels de pompiers took up all his time. The 
beginning of his career had been very different. 
He was educated in England — Rugby and Wool- 
wich — and served several years in the Royal Ar- 
tillery' in the British army. His militaiy training 
was very useful to him during the Franco-Prussian 
War, when he equipped and commanded a field 
batters% making all the campaign. His English 
brother officers always remembered him. Many 
times when we were living in England at the em- 
bassy, I was asked about him. A curious thing 
happened in the House of Lords one day, showing 
the wonderful memory of princes for faces. R. 
was staying with us for a few days, when the an- 
nual debate over the bill for marriage of a deceased 
wife's sister came up. The Prince of Wales (late 
King Edward) and all the other princes were 
present in the House. R. was there too, standing 
where all the strangers do, at the entrance of the 
lobby. When the debate was over, the Prince of 
Wales left. As he passed along, he shook hands 
with several gentlemen also standing near the 
lobby, including R. He stopped a moment in front 
of him, saying: "I think this is Mr. Waddington. 
The last time I saw you, you wore Her Majesty's 
uniform." He hadn't seen him for twenty-five or 
thirty years. I asked the prince afterward how 

[70] 



THE SOCIAL SIDE 

he recognised him. He said he didn't know; it was 
perhaps noticing an unfamiliar face in the group of 
men standing there, — and something recalled his 
brother, the ambassador. 

In September we went down to Bourneville and 
settled ourselves there for the autumn. W. was 
standing for the Senate with the Count de St. 
Vallier and Henri Martin. They all preferred 
being named in their department, where everybody 
knew them and their personal influence could make 
itself more easily felt. W.'s campaign was not very 
arduous. All the people knew him and liked him 
— knew that he would do whatever he promised. 
Their programme was absolutely Republican, but 
moderate, and he only made a few speeches and 
went about the country a little. I often went 
with him when he rode, and some of our visits to 
the farmers and local authorities were amusing if 
not encouraging. We were always very well re- 
ceived, but it wasn't easy to find out what they 
really thought (if they did think about it at all) 
of the state of affairs. The small landowners par- 
ticularly, the men who had one field and a garden, 
were very reserved. They listened attentively 
enough to all W. had to say. He was never long, 
never personal, and never abused his adversaries, 
but they rarely expressed an opinion. They almost 

[71] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

always turned the conversation upon some local 
matter or petty grievance. It didn't seem to me 
that they took the slightest interest in the extraor- 
dinary changes that were going on in France. 
A great many people came to see W. and there 
would be a curious collection sometimes in his 
library at the end of the day. The doctor (who 
always had precise information — country doctors 
always have — they see a great many people and 
I fancy the women talk to them and tell them 
what their men are doing), one or two farmers, 
some schoolmasters, the mayors of the nearest 
villages, the captains of the firemen and of the 
archers (they still shoot with bow and arrow in 
our part of the country; every Sunday the men 
practise shooting at a target) — the gendarmes, very 
useful these too to bring news — the notary, and 
occasionally a sous-prefet, but then he was a per- 
sonage, representing the Government, and was 
treated with more ceremony than the other visi- 
tors. It was evident from all these sources that 
the Republicans wpre coming to the front en 
masse. 

The Republicans (for once) were marvellously 
disciplined and kept together. It was really won- 
derful when one thought of all the different ele- 
ments that were represented in the party. There 

[72] 



THE SOCIAL SIDE 

was quite as much difference between the quiet 
moderate men of the Left Centre and the extreme 
Left as there was between the Legitimists and any 
faction of the Repubhcan party. There was a 
strong feeHng among the Liberals that they were 
being coerced, that arbitrary measures, perhaps a 
coup d'etat, would be sprung upon them, and they 
were quite determined to resist. I don't think 
there was ever any danger of a coup d'etat, at 
least as long as Marshal MacMahon was the chief 
of state. He was a fine honourable, patriotic sol- 
dier, utterly incapable of an illegality of any kind. 
He didn't like the Republic, honestly thought it 
would never succeed with the Republicans (la 
Republique sans Republicains was for him its 
only chance) — and he certainly had illusions and 
thought his friends and advisers would succeed in 
making and keeping a firm conservative govern- 
ment. How far that illusion was shared by his 
entourage it is difficult to say. They fought their 
battle well — government pressure exercised in all 
ways. Prefets and sous-prefets changed, wonder- 
ful prospects of little work and high pay held out 
to doubtful electors, and the same bright illusive 
promises made to the masses, which all parties 
make in all elections and which the people believe 
each time. The Republicans were not idle either, 

[73] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

and many fiery patriotic speeches were made on 
their side. Gambetta always held his public, 
with his passionate, earnest declamation, and his 
famous phrase, that the marshal must "se sou- 
mettre ou se demettre," became a password all 
through the country. 



[74] 



A REPUBLICAN VICTORY AND A NEW 
MINISTRY 

THE elections took place in October-Novem- 
ber, 1877, and gave at once a great Republi- 
can majority. W. and his two colleagues. Count 
de St. Vallier and Henri Martin, had an easy vic- 
tory, but a great many of their personal friends, 
moderates, were beaten. The centres were de- 
cidedly weaker in the new Chambers. There was 
not much hope left of uniting the two centres, 
Droite et Gauche, in the famous "fusion" which 
had been a dream of the moderate men. 

The new Chambers assembled at Versailles in 
November. The Broglie cabinet was out, but a 
new ministry of the Right faced the new Parlia- 
ment. Their life was very short and stormy; they 
were really dead before they began to exist and in 
December the marshal sent for M. Dufaure and 
charged him to form a Minis tere de Gauche. 
None of his personal friends, except General Borel 
at the War Office, was in the new combination. 

[75] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

W. was named to the Foreign Office. I was rather 
disappointed when he came home and told me he 
had accepted that portfoHo. I thought his old 
ministry, Public Instruction, suited him so well, 
the work interested him, was entirely to his taste. 
He knew all the literary and educational world, 
not only in France but everywhere else — England, 
of course, where he had kept up with many of his 
Cambridge comrades, and Germany, where he also 
had literary connections. However, that wide ac- 
quaintance and his perfect knowledge of English 
and English people helped him very much at once, 
not only at the Quai d'Orsay, but in all the years 
he was in England as ambassador. 

The new ministry, with Dufaure as President 
of the Council, Leon Say at the Finances, INI. de 
Freycinet at Public Works, and W. at the Foreign 
Office was announced the 14th of December, 1877. 
The preliminaries had been long and difficult — 
the marshal and his friends on one side — the Re- 
publicans and Gambetta on the other — the mod- 
erates trying to keep things together. Personally, 
I was rather sorry W. had agreed to be a member 
of the cabinet; I was not very keen about official 
life and foresaw a great deal that would be dis- 
agreeable. Politics played such a part in social 
life. All the "society," the Faubourg St. Germain 

[76] 



A REPUBLICAN VICTORY 

(which represents the old names and titles of 
France), was violently opposed to the Republic. 
I was astonished the first years of my married life 
in France, to see people of certain position and 
standing give the cold shoulder to men they had 
known all their lives because they were Republi- 
cans, knowing them quite well to be honourable, 
independent gentlemen, wanting nothing from the 
Republic — merely trying to do their best for the 
country. I only realised by degrees that people 
held off a little from me sometimes, as the wife of a 
Republican deputy. I didn't care particularly, 
as I had never lived in France, and knew very few 
people, but it didn't make social relations very 
pleasant, and I should have been better pleased if 
W. had taken no active part. However, that feel- 
ing was only temporary. I soon became keenly 
interested in politics (I suppose it is in the blood — 
all the men in my family in America were poli- 
ticians) and in the discussion of the various ques- 
tions which were rapidly changing France into 
something quite different. Whether the change 
has been for the better it would be hard to say 
even now, after more than thirty-five years of the 
Republic. 

Freycinet was a great strength. He was abso- 
lutely Republican, but moderate — very clever 

[771 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

and energetic, a great friend of Gambetta's — and 
a beautiful speaker. I have heard men say who 
didn't care about him particularly, and who were 
not at all of his way of thinking, that they would 
rather not discuss with him. He was sure to win 
them over to his cause with his wonderful, clear 
persuasive arguments. 

The first days were very busy ones. W. had 
to see all his staff (a very large one) of the Foreign 
Office, and organise his own cabinet. He was out 
all day, until late in the evening, at the Quai 
d'Orsay; used to go over there about ten or ten- 
thirty, breakfast there, and get back for a very 
late dinner, and always had a director or secretary 
working with him at our own house after dinner. I 
went over three or four times to inspect the min- 
istry, as I had a presentiment we should end by liv- 
ing there. The house is large and handsome, with 
a fine staircase and large high rooms. The furniture 
of course was "ministerial" — stiff and heavy — gold- 
backed chairs and sofas standing in rows against 
the walls. There were some good pictures, among 
others the "Congres de Paris," which occupies 
a prominent place in one of the salons, and splen- 
did tapestries. The most attractive thing was a 
fine large garden at the back, but, as the living- 
rooms were up-stairs, we didn't use it very much. 

[78 1 



A REPUBLICAN VICTORY 

The lower rooms, which opened on the gardens, 
were only used as reception-rooms. The minister's 
cabinet was also down-stairs, communicating by a 
small staircase with his bedroom, just overhead. 
The front of the house looks on the Seine; we had 
always a charming view from the windows, at 
night particularly, when all the little steamers 
(mouches) were passing with their lights. I had 
of course to make acquaintance with all the 
diplomatic corps. I knew all the ambassadors 
and most of the ministers, but there were some rep- 
resentatives of the smaller powers and South 
American Republics with whom I had never come 
in contact. Again I paid a formal official visit to 
the Marechale de MacMahon as soon as the min- 
istry was announced. She was perfectly polite 
and correct, but one felt at once she hadn't the 
slightest sympathy for anything Republican, and 
we never got to know each other any better all the 
months we were thrown together. We remained 
for several weeks at our own house, and then most 
reluctantly determined to install ourselves at the 
ministry. W. worked always very late after din- 
ner, and he felt it was not possible to ask his 
directors, all important men of a certain age, to 
come up to the Quartier de I'Etoile at ten o'clock 
and keep them busy until midnight. W.'s new 

[791 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

chef de cabinet, Comte de Pontecoulant, was very 
anxious that we should move, thought everything 
would be simplified if W. were living over there. 
I had never known Pontecoulant until W. chose 
him as his chef de cabinet. He was a diplomatist 
with some years of service behind him, and was 
perfectly au courant of all the routine and habits 
of the Foreign Office. He paid me a short formal 
visit soon after he had accepted the post; we 
exchanged a few remarks about the situation, 
I hoped we would faire bon manage, and had no 
particular impression of him except that he was 
very French and stiff; I didn't suppose I should 
see much of him. It seems curious now to look 
back upon that first interview. We all became so 
fond of him, he was a loyal, faithful friend, was 
always ready to help me in any small difficulties, 
and I went to him for everything — visits, servants, 
horses, etc. W. had no time for any details or 
amenities of life. We moved over just before New 
Year's day. As the gros mobilier was already 
there, we only took over personal things, grand 
piano, screens, tables, easy chairs, and small or- 
naments and bibelots. These were all sent off in a 
van early one morning, and after luncheon I went 
over, having given rendezvous to Pontecoulant 
and M. Kruft, chef du materiel, an excellent, in- 

[80] 



A REPUBLICAN VICTORY 

telligent man, who was most useful and devoted 
to me the two years I lived at the ministry. I was 
very depressed when we drove into the courtyard. 
I had never lived on that side of the river, and 
felt cut off from all my belongings, — the bridge a 
terror, so cold in winter, so hot in summer, — I never 
got accustomed to it, never crossed it on foot. 
The sight of the great empty rooms didn't reassure 
me. The reception-rooms of course were very 
handsome. There were a great many servants, 
huissiers, and footmen standing about, and peo- 
ple waiting in the big drawing-room to speak to W. 
The living-rooms up-stairs were ghastly — looked 
bare and uncomfortable in the highest degree. 
They were large and high and looked down upon 
the garden, though that on a bleak December day 
was not very cheerful — but there were possibilities. 
Kruft was very sympathetic, understood quite 
well how I felt, and was ready to do anything in 
the way of stoves, baths, wardrobes in the lin- 
gerie, new carpets, and curtains, that I wanted. 
Pontecoulant too was eminently practical, and I 
was quite amused to find myself discussing lin- 
geries and bathrooms with a total stranger whom I 
had only seen twice in my life. It took me about 
a week to get really settled. I went over every 
day, returning to my own house to eat and sleep. 

[81] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

Kruft did wonders; the place was quite transformed 
when I finally moved over. The rooms looked 
very bright and comfortable when we arrived in 
the afternoon of the 31st of December (New 
Year's eve). The little end salon, which I made 
my boudoir, was hung with blue satin; my piano, 
screens, and little things were very well placed — 
plenty of palms and flowers, bright fires every- 
where — the bedrooms, nursery, and lingeries clean 
and bright. My bedroom opened on a large salon, 
where I received usually, keeping my boudoir for 
ourselves and our intimate friends. My special 
huissier, Gerard, who sat all day outside of the 
salon door, was presented to me, and instantly be- 
came a most useful and important member of the 
household — never forgot a name or a face, remem- 
bered what cards and notes I had received, whether 
the notes were answered, or the bills paid, knew 
almost all my wardrobe, would bring me down a 
coat or a wrap if I wanted one suddenly down- 
stairs. I had frequent consultations with Pon- 
tecoulant and Kruft to regulate all the details of 
the various services before we were quite settled. 
We took over all our own servants and found 
many others who were on the permanent staff of 
the ministry, footmen, huissiers, and odd men who 
attended to all the fires, opened and shut all the 

[82] 



A REPUBLICAN VICTORY 

doors, windows, and shutters. It was rather diffi- 
cult to organise the regular working service, there 
was such rivalry between our own personal ser- 
vants and the men who belonged to the house, but 
after a little while things went pretty smoothly. 
W. dined out the first night we slept at the Quai 
d'Orsay, and about an hour after we had arrived, 
while I was still walking about in my hat and coat, 
feeling very strange in the big, high rooms, 1 was 
told that the lampiste was waiting my orders 
(a few lamps had been lit in some of the rooms). 
I didn't quite know what orders to give, hadn't 
mastered yet the number that would be required ; 
but I sent for him, said I should be alone for din- 
ner, perhaps one or two lamps in the dining-room 
and small salon would be enough. He evidently 
thought that was not at all sufficient, wanted 
something more precise, so I said to light as he 
had been accustomed to when the Due Decazes 
and his family were dining alone (which I don't 
suppose they ever did, nor we either when we once 
took up our life). Such a blaze of light met my 
eyes when I went to dinner that I was quite 
bewildered — boudoir, billiard-room, dining-room 
(very large, the small round table for one person 
hardly perceptible), and corridors all lighted "a 
giorno." However, it looked very cheerful and 

[83] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

kept me from feeling too dreadfully homesick for 
my own house and familiar surroundings. The 
rooms were so high up that we didn't hear the 
noise of the street, but the river looked alive and 
friendly with the lights on the bridges, and a few 
boats still running. 

We had much more receiving and entertaining 
to do at the Quai d'Orsay than at any other min- 
istry, and were obliged to go out much more our- 
selves. The season in the official world begins 
with a reception at the President's on New Year's 
day. The diplomatic corps and presidents of the 
Senate and Chamber go in state to the Elysee 
to pay their respects to the chief of state — the 
ambassadors with all their staff in uniform in gala 
carriages. It is a pretty sight, and there are 
always a good many people waiting in the Fau- 
bourg St. Honore to see the carriages. The En- 
glish carriage is always the best; they understand 
all the details of harness and livery so much better 
than any one else. The marshal and his family 
were established at the Elysee. It wasn't possible 
for him to remain at Versailles — he couldn't be so 
far from Paris, where all sorts of questions were 
coming up every day, and he was obliged to receive 
deputations and reports, and see people of all 
kinds. They were already agitating the question 

[84] 



A REPUBLICAN VICTORY 

of the Parliament coming back to Paris. The 
deputies generally were complaining of the loss of 
time and the discomfort of the daily journey even 
in the parliamentary train. The Right generally 
was very much opposed to having the Chambers 
back in Paris. I never could understand why. I 
suppose they were afraid that a stormy sitting 
might lead to disturbances. In the streets of a 
big city there is always a floating population 
ready to espouse violently any cause. At Ver- 
sailles one was away from any such danger, and, 
except immediately around the palace, there was 
nobody in the long, deserted avenues. They often 
cited the United States, how no statesman after 
the signing of the Declaration of Independence (in 
Philadelphia) would have ventured to propose that 
the Parliament should sit in New York or Phila- 
delphia, but the reason there was very different; 
they were obliged to make a neutral zone, some- 
tning between the North and the South. The 
District of Columbia is a thing apart, belonging 
to neither side. It has certainly worked very well 
in America. Washington is a fine city, with its 
splendid old trees and broad avenues. It has a 
cachet of its own, is unlike any other city I know 
in the world. 

The marshal received at the Elysee every Thurs- 

[85] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

day evening — he and his staff in uniform, also all 
the officers who came, which made a brilliant 
gathering. Their big dinners and receptions were 
always extremely well done. Except a few of 
their personal friends, not many people of so- 
ciety were present — the diplomatic corps usu- 
ally very well represented, the Government and 
their wives, and a certain number of liberal depu- 
ties — a great many officers. We received every 
fifteen days, beginning with a big dinner. It was 
an open reception, announced in the papers. 
The diplomats always mustered very strong, also 
the Parliament — not many women. Many of the 
deputies remained in the country, taking rooms 
merely while the Chambers were sitting, and their 
wives never appeared in Paris. "Society" didn't 
come to us much either, except on certain occasions 
when we had a royal prince or some very dis- 
tinguished foreigners. Besides the big official re- 
ceptions, we often had small dinners up-stairs dur- 
ing the week. Some of these I look back to with 
much pleasure. I was generally the only lady 
with eight or ten men, and the talk was often bril- 
liant. Some of our habitues w^ere the late Lord 
Houghton, a delightful talker; Lord Dufferin, then 
ambassador in St. Petersburg; Sir Henry Layard, 
British ambassador in Spain, an interesting man 

[86] 



A REPUBLICAN VICTORY 

who had been everywhere and seen and known 
everybody worth knowing in the world; Count 
Schouvaloff, Russian ambassador in London, a 
poHshed courtier, extremely intelligent; he and 
W. were colleagues afterward at the Congres de 
Berlin, and W. has often told me how brilliantly 
he defended his cause; General Ignatieff, Prince 
Orloff , the nunzio Monsignor Czascki, quite charm- 
ing, the type of the prelat mondain, very large 
(though very Catholic) in his ideas, but never ag- 
gressive or disagreeable about the Republic, as so 
many of the clergy were. He was very fond of 
music, and went with me sometimes to the Con- 
servatoire on Sunday; he had a great admiration 
for the way they played classical music; used to 
lean back in his chair in a corner (would never sit 
in front of the box) and drink in every sound. 

We sometimes had informal music in my little 
blue salon. Baron de Zuylen, Dutch minister, 
was an excellent musician, also Comte de Beust, 
the Austrian ambassador. He was a composer. 
I remember his playing me one day a wedding 
march he had composed for the marriage of one 
of the archdukes. It was very descriptive, with 
bells, cannon, hurrahs, and a nuptial hymn — 
rather difficult to render on a piano — but there 
was a certain amount of imagination in the compo- 

[87] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

sition. The two came often with me to the Con- 
servatoire. Comte de Beust brought Liszt to me 
one day. I wanted so much to see that complex 
character, made up of enthusiasms of all kinds, 
patriotic, religious, musical. He was dressed in the 
ordinary black priestly garb, looked like an ascetic 
with pale, thin face, which lighted up very much 
when discussing any subject that interested him. 
He didn't say a word about music, either then or 
on a subsequent occasion when I lunched with 
him at the house of a great friend and admirer, 
who was a beautiful musician. I hoped he would 
play after luncheon. He was a very old man, and 
played rarely in those days, but one would have 
liked to hear him. Madame M. thought he would 
perhaps for her, if the party were not too large, 
and the guests "sympathetic" to him. I have 
heard so many artists say it made all the differ- 
ence to them when they felt the public was with 
them — if there were one unsympathetic or criti- 
cising face in the mass of people, it was the only 
face they could distinguish, and it affected them 
very much. The piano was engagingly open and 
music littered about, but he apparently didn't see 
it. He talked politics, and a good deal about 
pictures with some artists who were present. 
I did hear him play many years later in London. 

[88] 




Franz Liszt. 



A REPUBLICAN VICTORY 

We were again lunching together, at the house of 
a mutual friend, who was not at all musical. 
There wasn't even a piano in the house, but she 
had one brought in for the occasion. When I ar- 
rived rather early, the day of the party, I found 
the mistress of the house, aided by Count Hatz- 
feldt, then German ambassador to England, busily 
engaged in transforming her drawing-room. The 
grand piano, which had been standing well out to- 
ward the middle of the room, open, with music on 
it (I dare say some of Liszt's own — but I didn't 
have time to examine), was being pushed back into 
a corner, all the music hidden away, and the instru- 
ment covered with photographs, vases of flowers, 
statuettes, heavy books, all the things one doesn't 
habitually put on pianos. I was quite puzzled, 
but Hatzfeldt, who was a great friend of Liszt's 
and knew all his peculiarities, when consulted by 
Madame A. as to what she could do to induce 
Liszt to play, had answered: *' Begin by putting 
the piano in the furthest, darkest corner of the 
room, and put all sorts of heavy things on it. Then 
he won't think you have asked him in the hope of 
hearing him play, and perhaps we can persuade 
him." The arrangements were just finished as the 
rest of the company arrived. We were not a large 
party, and the talk was pleasant enough. Liszt 

[89] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

looked much older, so colourless, his skin like 
ivory, but he seemed just as animated and inter- 
ested in everything. After luncheon, when they 
were smoking (all of us together, no one went into 
the smoking-room), he and Hatzfeldt began talking 
about the Empire and the beautiful fetes at Com- 
piegne, where anybody of any distinction in any 
branch of art or literature was invited. Hatzfeldt 
led the conversation to some evenings when 
Strauss played his waltzes with an entrain, a sen- 
timent that no one else has ever attained, and to 
Offenbach and his melodies — one evening par- 
ticularly when he had improvised a song for the 
Empress — he couldn't quite remember it. If there 
were a piano — he looked about. There was none 
apparently. "Oh, yes, in a corner, but so many 
things upon it, it was evidently never meant to be 
opened." He moved toward it, Liszt following, 
asking Comtesse A. if it could be opened. The 
things were quickly removed. Hatzfeldt sat down 
and played a few bars in rather a halting fashion. 
After a moment Liszt said: "No, no, it is not quite 
that." Hatzfeldt got up. Liszt seated himself 
at the piano, played two or three bits of songs, or 
waltzes, then, always talking to Hatzfeldt, let his 
fingers wander over the keys and by degrees broke 
into a nocturne and a wild Hungarian march. It 

[90] 



A REPUBLICAN VICTORY 

was very curious; his fingers looked as if they were 
made of yellow ivory, so thin and long, and of 
course there wasn't any strength or execution in 
his playing — it was the touch of an old man, but 
a master — quite unlike anything I have ever heard. 
When he got up, he said: "Oh, well, I didn't think 
the old fingers had any music left in them." We 
tried to thank him, but he wouldn't listen to us, 
immediately talked about something else. When 
he had gone we complimented the ambassador on 
the way in which he had managed the thing. 
Hatzfeldt was a charming colleague, very clever, 
very musical, a thorough man of the world. I was 
always pleased when he was next to me at dinner — 
I was sure of a pleasant hour. He had been many 
years in Paris during the brilliant days of the Em- 
pire, knew everybody there worth knowing. He 
had the reputation, notwithstanding his long stay 
in Paris, of being very anti-French. I could hardly 
judge of that, as he never talked politics to me. 
It may very likely have been true, but not more 
marked with him than with the generality of 
Anglo-Saxons and Northern races, who rather 
look down upon the Latins, hardly giving them 
credit for their splendid dash and pluck — to say 
nothing of their brains. I have lived in a great 
many countries, and always think that as a peo- 

[91] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

pie, I mean the uneducated mass, the French are 
the most intelligent nation in the world. I have 
never been thrown with the Japanese — am told 
they are extraordinarily intelligent. 

We had a dinner one night for Mr. Gladstone, 
his wife, and a daughter. Mr. Gladstone made 
himself quite charming, spoke French fairly well, 
and knew more about every subject discussed than 
any one else in the room. He was certainly a 
wonderful man, such extraordinary versatility and 
such a memory. It was rather pretty to see Mrs. 
Gladstone when her husband was talking. She 
was quite absorbed by him, couldn't talk to her 
neighbours. They wanted very much to go to the 
Conciergerie to see the prison where the unfortu- 
nate Marie Antoinette passed the last days of her 
unhappy life, and Mr. Gladstone, inspired by the 
subject, made us a sort of conference on the 
French Revolution and the causes which led up to 
it, culminating in the Terror and the execution of 
the King and Queen. He spoke in English (we 
were a little group standing at the door — they were 
just going), in beautiful academic language, and 
it was most interesting, graphic, and exact. Even 
W., who knew him well and admired him im- 
mensely, was struck by his brilliant improvisation. 

We were often asked for permits by our English 

[92] 




William E. Gladstone. 
From a pliotc.giaph by Saimiel A. Walker, London. 



A REPUBLICAN VICTORY 

and American friends to see all the places of his- 
torical interest in Paris, and the two places which 
all wanted to see were the Conciergerie and Napo- 
leon's tomb at the Invalides. When we first came 
to Paris in 1866, just after the end of the long strug- 
gle between the North and South in America, our 
first visits too were for the Conciergerie, Invalides, 
and Notre Dame, where my father had not been 
since he had gone as a very young man with all 
Paris to see the flags that had been brought back 
from Austerlitz. They were interesting days, those 
first ones in Paris, so full of memories for father, 
who had been there a great deal in his young days, 
first as an eleve in the Ecole Polytechnique, later 
when the Allies were in Paris. He took us one day 
to the Luxembourg Gardens, to see if he could 
find any trace of the spot where in 1815 during 
the Restoration Marshal Ney had been shot. He 
was in Paris at the time, and was in the garden a 
few hours after the execution — remembered quite 
well the wall against which the marshal stood — 
and the comments of the crowd, not very flat- 
tering for the Government in executing one of 
France's bravest and most brilliant soldiers. 

All the Americans who came to see us at the 
Quai d'Orsay were much interested in everything 
relating to General Marquis de Lafayette, who 

[931 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

left an undying memory in America, and many 
pilgrimages were made to the Chateau de la 
Grange, where the Marquis de Lafayette spent 
the last years of his life and extended a large and 
gracious hospitality to all his friends. It is an 
interesting old place, with a moat all around it 
and high solid stone walls, where one still sees the 
hole that was made in the wall by a cannon-ball 
sent by Marechal de Turenne as he was passing 
with his troops, as a friendly souvenir to the 
owner, with whom he was not on good terms. So 
many Americans and English too are imbued with 
the idea that there are no chateaux, no country 
life in France, that I am delighted when they can 
see that there are just as many as in any other 
country. A very clever American writer, whose 
books have been much read and admired, says 
that when travelling in France in the country, he 
never saw any signs of wealth or gentlemen's prop- 
erty. I think he didn't want to admire any- 
thing French, but I wonder in what part of France 
he has travelled. Besides the well-known historic 
chateaux of Chaumont, Chenonceaux, Azay-le- 
Rideau, Maintenon, Dampierre, Josselin, Valen- 
^ay, and scores of others, there are quantities of 
small Louis XV chateaux and manoirs, half hid- 
den in a corner of a forest, which the stranger 

[94] 



A REPUBLICAN VICTORY 

never sees. They are quite charming, built of 
red brick with white copings, with stiff old-fash- 
ioned gardens, and trees cut into all sorts of 
fantastic shapes. Sometimes the parish church 
touches the castle on one side, and there is a pri- 
vate entrance for the seigneurs. The interior ar- 
rangements in some of the old ones leave much to 
be desired in the way of comfort and modern im- 
provements, — lighting very bad, neither gas nor 
electricity, and I should think no baths anywhere, 
hardly a tub. On the banks of the Seine and the 
Loire, near the great forests, in all the depart- 
ments near Paris there are quantities of chateaux 
— some just on the border of the highroad, sepa- 
rated from it by high iron gates, through which 
one sees long winding alleys with stone benches 
and vases with red geraniums planted in them, a 
sun-dial and stiff formal rows of trees — some less 
pretentious with merely an ordinary wooden gate, 
generally open, and always flowers of the simplest 
kind, geraniums, sunflowers, pinks, dahlias, and 
chrysanthemums — what we call a jardin de cure, 
(curate's garden) — but in great abundance. With 
very rare exceptions the lawns are not well kept — 
one never sees in this country the smooth green 
turf that one does in England. 

Some of the old chateaux are very stately — 

[95] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

sometimes one enters by a large quadrangle, quite 
surrounded by low arcades covered with ivy, a 
fountain and good-sized basin in the middle of 
the courtyard, and a big clock over the door — 
sometimes they stand in a moat, one goes over a 
drawbridge with massive doors, studded with iron 
nails and strong iron bolts and chains which defend 
the entrance, making one think of old feudal days, 
when might w^as right, and if a man wanted his 
neighbour's property, he simply took it. Even 
some of the smaller chateaux have moats. I think 
they are more picturesque than comfortable — an 
ivy-covered house with a moat around it is a nest 
for mosquitoes and insects of all kinds, and I fancy 
the damp from the water must finish by pervading 
the house. French people of all classes love the 
country and a garden with bright flowers, and if 
the poorer ones can combine a rabbit hutch with 
the flowers they are quite happy. 

I have heard W. speak sometimes of a fine old 
chateau in our department — (Aisne) belonging to 
a deputy, who invited his friends to shoot and 
breakfast. The cuisine and shooting were excel- 
lent, but the accommodations fantastic. The 
neighbours said nothing had been renewed or 
cleaned since the chateau was occupied by the 
Cossacks under the first Napoleon. 

[96] 



A REPUBLICAN VICTORY 

We got very little country life during those 
years at the Foreign Office. Twice a year, in 
April and August, W. went to Laon for his Conseil- 
General, over which he presided, but he was rarely 
able to stay all through the session. He was 
always present on the opening day, and at the 
prefet's dinner, and took that opportunity to 
make a short speech, explaining the foreign policy 
of the Government. I don't think it interested his 
colleagues as much as all the local questions — 
roads, schools, etc. It is astonishing how much 
time is wasted and how much letter-writing is 
necessitated by the simplest change in a road or 
railway crossing in France. We had rather a short 
narrow turning to get into our gate at Bourne- 
ville, and W. wanted to have the road enlarged just 
a little, so as to avoid the sharp angle. It didn't 
interfere with any one, as we were several yards 
from the highroad, but it was months, more than 
a year, before the thing was done. Any one of the 
workmen on the farm would have finished it in a 
day's work. 

At one of our small dinners I had such a charac- 
teristic answer from an English diplomatist, who 
had been ambassador at St. Petersburg. He was 
really a charming talker, but wouldn't speak 
French. That was of no consequence as long as 

[97] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

he only talked to me, but naturally all the people 
at the table wanted to talk to him, and when the 
general conversation languished, at last, I said to 
him: "I wish you would speak French; none of 
these gentlemen speak any other language." (It 
was quite true, the men of my husband's age spoke 
very rarely any other language but their own; now 
almost all the younger generation speak German or 
English or both. Almost all my son's friends 
speak English perfects.) "Oh no, I can't," he 
said; "I haven't enough the habit of speaking 
French. I don't say the things I want to say, 
only the things I can say, which is very different." 
"But what did you do in Russia.^" "All the 
women speak English." "But for affairs, diplo- 
matic negotiations?" "All the women speak En- 
glish." I have often heard it said that the Rus- 
sian women were much more clever than the men. 
He evidently had found it true. 



[98] 



VI 

THE EXPOSITION YEAR 

THE big political dinners were always interest- 
ing. On one occasion we had a banquet on 
the 2d of December. My left-hand neighbour, 
a senator, said to me casually: "This room looks 
very different from what it did the last time I was 
in it." "Does it.^ I should have thought a big 
official dinner at the Foreign Office would have 
been precisely the same under any regime." "A 
dinner perhaps, but on that occasion we were not 
precisely dining. I and a number of my friends 
had just been arrested, and we were waiting here 
in this room strictly guarded, until it was decided 
what should be done with us." Then I remem- 
bered that it was the 2d of December, the anni- 
versary of Louis Napoleon's coup d'etat. He said 
they were quite unprepared for it, in spite of 
warnings. He was sent out of the country for a 
Httle while, but I don't think his exile was a very 
terrible one. 

I got my first lesson in diplomatic politeness 
[99] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

from Lord Lyons, then British ambassador in 
Paris. He was in Paris during the Franco-German 
War, knew everybody, and had a great position. 
He gave very handsome dinners, Hked his guests 
to be punctual, was very punctual himself, always 
arrived on the stroke of eight when he dined with 
us. We had an Annamite mission to dine one 
night and had invited almost all the ambassadors 
and ministers to meet them. There had been a 
stormy sitting at the Chamber and W. was late. 
As soon as I was ready I went to his library and 
waited for him; I couldn't go down and receive a 
foreign mission without him. We were quite 
seven or eight minutes late and found all the com- 
pany assembled (except the Annamites, who were 
waiting with their interpreter in another room to 
make their entry in proper style). As I shook 
hands with Lord Lyons (who was doyen of the 
diplomatic corps) he said to me: "Ah, Madame 
Waddington, I see the Republic is becoming very 
royal; you don't receive your guests any more, 
merely come into the room when all the company 
is assembled." He said it quite smilingly, but I 
understood very well, and of course we ought to 
have been there when the first guests arrived. 
He was very amiable all the same and told me a 
great many useful things — for instance, that I must 

[100] 




Lord Lyous 



THE EXPOSITION YEAR 

never invite a cardinal and an ambassador to- 
gether, as neither of them would yield the prece- 
dence and I would find myself in a very awkward 
position. 

The Annamites were something awful to see. 
In their country all the men of a certain stand- 
ing blacken their teeth, and I suppose the dye 
makes their teeth fall out, as they hadn't any ap- 
parently, and when they opened their mouths the 
black caverns one saw were terrifying. I had 
been warned, but notwithstanding it made a most 
disagreeable impression on me. They were very 
richly attired, particularly the first three, who 
were tres grands seigneurs in Annam, — heavily 
embroidered silk robes, feathers, and jewels, and 
when they didn't open their mouths they were 
rather a decorative group, — were tall, powerfully 
built men. They knew no French nor English — 
spoke through the interpreter. My intercourse 
with them was very limited. They were not near 
me at dinner, but afterward I tried to talk to 
them a little. They all stood in a group at one 
end of the room, flanked by an interpreter — the 
three principal chiefs well in front. I don't know 
what the interpreter said to them from me, prob- 
ably embellished my very banal remarks with 
flowers of rhetoric, but they were very smiling, 

[101] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

opening wide their black mouths and made me 
very low bows — evidently appreciated my inten- 
tion and effort to be amiable. 

They brought us presents, carpets, carved and 
inlaid mother-of-pearl boxes, cabinets,, and some 
curious saddles, also gold-embroidered cushions 
and slippers. Some Arab horses were announced 
with great pomp from the Sultan's stables. I was 
rather interested in them, thought it would be 
amusing to drive a long-tailed Arab pony in a little 
cart in the morning. They were brought one 
morning to the Quai d'Orsay, and W. gave rendez- 
vous to Comte de Pontccoulant and some of the 
sporting men of the cabinet, in the courtyard. 
There were also several stablemen, all much in- 
terested in the idea of taming the fiery steeds of the 
desert. The first look was disappointing. They 
were thin, scraggy animals, apparently all legs 
and manes. Long tails they had, and small heads, 
but anything so tame and sluggish in their move- 
ments could hardly be imagined. One could 
scarcely get them to canter around the courtyard. 
We were all rather disgusted, as sometimes one 
sees pretty little Arab horses in Paris. I don't 
know what became of them; I fancy they were 
sent to the cavalry stables. 

Our first great function that winter was the ser- 
[1021 



THE EXPOSITION YEAR 

vice at the Madeleine for the King of Italy, Victor 
Emmanuel, who died suddenly in the beginning of 
January, 1878. France sent a special mission to 
the funeral — the old Marshal Canrobert, who took 
with him the marshal's son, Fabrice de MacMahon. 
The Church of the Madeleine was filled with people 
of all kinds — the diplomatic corps in uniform, a 
very large representation of senators and deputies. 
There was a slight hesitation among some of the 
Left — w^io were ardent sympathisers with young 
Italy — but who didn't care to compromise them- 
selves by taking part in a religious ceremony. 
However, as a rule they went. Some of the ladies 
of the Right were rather put out at having to go 
in deep mourning to the service. I said to one of 
them: "But you are not correct; you have a black 
dress certainly, but I don't think pearl-grey gloves 
are proper for such an occasion." "Oh, they ex- 
press quite sufficiently the grief I feel on this 
occasion." 

It was curious that the King should have gone 
before the old Pope, who had been failing for some 
time. Every day we expected to hear of his death. 
There were many speculations over the new King 
of Italy, the Prince Humbert of our day. As we 
had lived so many years in Rome, I was often 
asked what he was like, but I really had no opinion. 

[103] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

One saw him very littler I remember one day in 
the hunting-field he got a nasty fall. His horse put 
his foot in a hole and fell with him. It looked a 
bad accident, as if the horse were going to roll over 
on him. I, with one of my friends, was near, and 
seeing an accident (I didn't know who it was) 
naturally stopped to see if our groom could do 
anything, but an officer rode hurriedly up and 
begged us to go on, that the Prince would be very 
much annoyed if any one, particularly a woman, 
should notice his fall. I saw him later in the day, 
looking all right on another horse, and no one made 
any allusion to the accident. 

About a month after Victor Emmanuel's death 
the old Pope died, the 8th of February, 1878, 
quite suddenly at the end. He was buried of 
course in Rome, and it was very difficult to arrange 
for his funeral in the Rome of the King of Italy. 
However, he did lie in state at St. Peter's, the 
noble garde in their splendid uniforms standing 
close around the catafalque — long lines of Italian 
soldiers, the bersaglieri with their waving plumes, 
on each side of the great aisle. There was a mag- 
nificent service for him at Notre Dame. The 
Chambers raised their sitting as a mark of respect 
to the head of the church, and again there was a 
great attendance at the cathedral. There were 

[1041 



THE EXPOSITION YEAR 

many discussions in the monde (society not of- 
ficial) "as to whether one should wear mourning 
for the Saint Pere." I believe the correct thing is 
not to wear mourning, but almost all the ladies of 
the Faubourg St. Germain went about in black 
garments for some time. One of my friends put 
it rather graphically: "Si on a un ruban rose dans 
les cheveux on a tout de suite I'air d'etre la mai- 
tresse de Rochefort." 

All Europe was engrossed with the question of 
the Pope's successor. Intrigues and undercur- 
rents were going on hard in Rome, and the issue 
of the conclave was impatiently awaited. No one 
could predict any result. The election of Cardinal 
Pecci, future Leo XIII, seemed satisfactory, at 
least in the beginning. 

My winter passed pleasantly enough; I began to 
feel more at home in my new quarters, and saw 
many interesting people of all kinds. Every now 
and then there would be a very lively debate in 
the Parliament. W. would come home very late, 
saying things couldn't go on like that, and we 
would surely be out of ojQSce in a few weeks. We 
always kept our house in the rue Dumont d'Urville, 
and I went over every week, often thinking that 
in a few days we should be back there again. 

One of my great trials was a reception day. W. 
[105 1 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

thought I ought to have one, so every Friday I 
was at home from three until six, and very long 
afternoons they were. I insisted upon having a 
tea-table, which was a novelty in those days, but 
it broke the stiff semicircle of red and gold arm- 
chairs carefully arranged at one end of the room. 
Very few men took tea. It was rather amusing to 
see some of the deputies who didn't exactly like 
to refuse a cup of tea offered to them by the min- 
ister's wife, holding the cup and saucer most care- 
fully in their hands, making a pretence of sipping 
the tea and replacing it hastily on the table as 
soon as it was possible. I had of course a great 
many people of different nationalities, who gen- 
erally didn't know each other. The ambassa- 
dresses and ministers' wives sat on each side of my 
sofa — the smaller people lower down. They were 
all announced, my huissier, Gerard, doing it very 
well, opening the big doors and roaring out the 
names. Sometimes, at the end of the day, some of 
my own friends or some of the young men from 
the chancery would come in, and that would cheer 
me up a little. There was no conversation, merely 
an exchange of formal phrases, but I had some 
funny experiences. 

One day I had several ladies whom I didn't 
know at all, wives of deputies, or small function- 

[106] 



THE EXPOSITION YEAR 

aries at some of the ministries. One of my friends, 
Comtesse de B., was starting for Italy and Rome 
for the first time. She had come to ask me all 
sorts of questions about clothes, hotels, people to 
see, etc. When she went away in a whirl of prep- 
arations and addresses, I turned to one of my 
neighbours, saying: *'Je crois qu'on est tres bien 
a I'Hotel de Londres a Rome," quite an insig- 
nificant and inoffensive remark — merely to say 
something. She replied haughtily: "Je n'en sais 
rien, Madame; je n'ai jamais quitte Paris et je 
m'en vante." I was so astonished that I had 
nothing to say, but was afterward sorry that I had 
not continued the conversation and asked her why 
she was so especially proud of never having left 
Paris. Travelling is usually supposed to enlarge 
one's ideas. Her answer might have been inter- 
esting. W. wouldn't beheve it when I told him, 
but I said I couldn't really have invented it. I 
used to go into his cabinet at the end of the day 
always, when he was alone with Pontecoulant, and 
tell them all my experiences which W. forbid me 
to mention anywhere else. I had a good many 
surprises, but soon learned never to be astonished 
and to take everything as a matter of course. 

The great interest of the summer was the Ex- 
position Universelle which was to take place at 

[107] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

the Trocadero, the new building which had been 
built on the Champ de Mars. The opening was 
announced for the 1st of May and was to be 
performed with great pomp by the marshal. All 
Europe was represented except Germany, and 
almost all the great powers were sending princes 
to represent their country. We went often to see 
how the works w^ere getting on, and I must say it 
didn't look as if it could possibly be ready for the 
1st of May. There were armies of workmen in 
every direction and carts and camions loaded with 
cases making their way with difficulty through the 
mud. Occasionally a light case or bale would 
fall off, and quantities of small boys who seemed 
always on the spot would precipitate themselves, 
tumbling over each other to pick up what fell, and 
there would be protestations and explanations in 
every language under the sun. It was a motley, 
picturesque crowd — the costumes and uniforms 
making so much colour in the midst of the very 
ordinary dark clothes the civilised Western world 
affects. I felt sorry for the Orientals and people 
from milder climes — they looked so miserably cold 
and wretched shivering under the very fresh April 
breezes that sw^ept over the great plain of the 
Champ de Mars. The machines, particularly the 
American ones, attracted great attention. There 

[108] 



THE EXPOSITION YEAR 

was always a crowd waiting when some of the large 
pieces were swung down into their places by enor- 
mous pulleys. 

The opening ceremony was very brilliant. Hap- 
pily it was a beautiful warm day, as all the guests 
invited by the marshal and the Government were 
seated on a platform outside the Trocadero build- 
ing. All the diplomatic corps, foreign royalties, and 
commissioners of the different nations who were 
taking part in the exposition were invited. The 
view was lovely as we looked down from our seats. 
The great enclosure was packed with people. All 
the paviHons looked very gay with bright-coloured 
walls and turrets, and there were flags, palms, flow- 
ers, and fountains everywhere — the Seine running 
through the middle with fanciful bridges and boats. 
There was a curious collection of people in the 
tribunes. The invitations had not been very easy 
to make. There were three Spanish sovereigns. 
Queen Isabella, her husband, Don Frangois d' As- 
sizes, and the Due d'Aosta (King Amadee), who 
had reigned a few stormy months in Spain. He 
had come to represent Italy at the exposition. 
The marshal was rather preoccupied with his 
Spanish royalties. He had a reception in the eve- 
ning, to which all were invited, and thought it 
would be wise to take certain precautions, so he 

[109] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

sent one of his aides-de-camp to Queen Isabella to 
say that he hoped to have the honour of seeing her 
in the evening at the Elysee, but he thought it 
right to tell her that she might perhaps have some 
disagreeable meetings. She replied: "Si e'est mon 
mari de qui vous parlez, cela m'est tout a fait egal; 
si e'est le Due d'Aosta, je serai ravie de le voir." 

She came to the reception, but her husband was 
already gone. The Due d'Aosta was still there, 
and she walked straight up to him and kissed him 
on both cheeks, not an easy thing to do, for the 
duke was not at all the type of the gay lady's man 
— very much the reverse. He looked a soldier 
(like all the princes of the house of Savoy) and at 
the same time a monk. One could easily imagine 
him a crusader in plumed helmet and breastplate, 
supporting any privation or fatigue without a mur- 
mur. He was very shy (one saw it was an effort 
for him every time that any one was brought up 
to him and he had to make polite phrases), not in 
the least mondain, but simple, charming when 
one talked to him. 

I saw him often afterw^ard, as he represented 
his brother, King Humbert, on various official oc- 
casions when I too was present — the coronation 
of the Emperor Alexander of Russia, the Jubilee 
of Queen Victoria. He was always a striking fig- 

[110] 



THE EXPOSITION YEAR 

ure, didn't look as if he belonged to our modern 
world at all. The marshal had a series of dinners 
and receptions which were most brilliant. There 
was almost always music or theatricals, with the 
best artists in Paris. The Comedie Frangaise 
was much appreciated. Their style is so finished 
and sure. They played just as well at one end of 
a drawing-room, with a rampe of flowers only 
separating them from the public, as in their own 
theatre with all the help of scenery, acoustics, and 
distance. In a drawing-room naturally the audi- 
ence is much nearer. 

I remember one charming party at the Elysee 
for the Austrian crown prince, the unfortunate 
Archduke Rudolph. All the stars of the Theatre 
Frangais were playing — Croizette, Reichemberg, 
Delaunay, Coquelin. The prince seemed to enjoy 
himself. He was very good-looking, with a slight, 
elegant figure and charming smile — didn't look 
like a man whose life would end so tragically. 
When I saw him some years later in London, he 
was changed, looked older, had lost his gaiety, 
was evidently bored with the official entertaining, 
and used to escape from all the dinners and recep- 
tions as soon as he could. 

The late King Edward (then Prince of Wales) 
won golden opinions always. There was certainly 

[111] 



1 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

something in his personahty which had an enor- 
mous attraction for Parisians. He always seemed 
to enjoy Kfe, never looked bored, was unfailingly 
courteous and interested in the people he was 
talking to. It was a joy to the French people to 
see him at some of the small theatres, amusing 
himself and understanding all the sous-entendus 
and argot quite as well as they did. It would 
almost seem as if what some one said were true, 
that he reminded them of their beloved Henri IV, 
who still lives in the heart of the nation. 

His brother-in-law, the Prince of Denmark, was 
also most amiable. We met him often walking 
about the streets with one or two of his gentlemen, 
and looking in at the windows like an ordinary 
provincial. He was tall, with a slight, youthful 
figure, and was always recognised. It was a great 
satisfaction and pride to Parisians to have so 
many royalties and distinguished people among 
them again. 

Those two months of May and June gave back 
to Paris the animation and gaiety of the last days 
of the Empire. There were many handsome car- 
riages on the Champs-Elysees, filled with pretty, 
well-dressed women, and the opera and all the 
theatres were packed. Paris was illuminated the 
night of the opening of the exposition, the whole 

[112] 




His Royal Highness, Edward, Prince of Wales, in 187 
From a photograph by Lock & Whitfield. Loudon. 



THE EXPOSITION YEAR 

city, not merely the Cliamps-Elysees and boule- 
vards. As we drove across the bridge on our way 
home from the reception at the Elysee, it was a 
beautiful sight — the streets full of people waiting 
to see the foreign royalties pass, and the view up 
and down the Seine, with the lights from the high 
buildings reflected in the water — like fairy-land. 

The dinners and receptions at the Elysee and 
at all the ministries those first wrecks of the expo- 
sition were interesting but so fatiguing. Happily 
there were not many lunches nor day entertain- 
ments. I used to get a good drive every after- 
noon in the open carriage with mother and baby, 
and that kept me alive. Occasionally (not often) 
W. had a man's dinner, and then I could go with 
some of my friends and dine at the exposition, 
which was very amusing — such a curious collec- 
tion of people. The rue des Nations was like 
a gigantic fair. We met all our friends, and heard 
every language under the sun. Among other dis- 
tinguished foreign guests that year we had Presi- 
dent and Mrs. Grant, who were received every- 
where in Europe (England giving the example) like 
royalties. When they dined with us at the Quai 
d'Orsay W. and I went to the top of the great 
staircase to meet them, exactly as we did for the 
Prince and Princess of Wales. 

[113] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

It seems funny to me when I think of the very 
unceremonious manner in which not only ex-presi- 
dents but actual presidents were treated in America 
when I was a child. I remember quite well seeing 
a president (I have forgotten which one now) come 
into the big drawing-room at the old Cozzen's 
Hotel at West Point, with two or three gentlemen 
wuth him. There was a certain number of people 
in the room and nobody moved, or dreamt of get- 
ting up. However, the Grants were very simple 
— accepted all the honours shown to them without 
a pose of any kind. The marshal gave them a big 
dinner at the Elysee. We arrived a little late (we 
always did) and found a large party assembled. 
The Grants came in just after us. 

The Marechale said to me: "The Chinese ambas- 
sador will take you to dinner, Madame Wadding- 
ton. He is an interesting, clever man, knows 
England and the English well — speaks English 
remarkably well." Just before dinner was an- 
nounced the ambassador was brought up to me. 
He was a striking-looking man, tall, broad-shoul- 
dered, dignified, very gorgeously attired in light- 
blue satin, embroidered in bright-coloured flowers 
and gold and silver designs, and a splendid yellow 
bird of paradise in his cap. He didn't come quite 
up to me, made me a low bow from a certain dis- 

[114] 



THE EXPOSITION YEAR 

tance, and then fell back into a group of smaller 
satellites, all very splendidly dressed. When dinner 
was announced the first couples filed off — the mar- 
shal with Mrs. Grant and the Marechale with Pres- 
ident Grant and W. with his lady. There was a 
pause; I should have gone next, but my ambassa- 
dor wasn't forthcoming. I looked and wondered. 
All the aides-de-camp were making frantic signals 
to me to go on, and the whole cortege was stopped. 
I really didn't know what to do — I felt rather fool- 
ish. Presently the ambassador appeared — didn't 
offer me his arm, but again made me a low bow, 
which I returned and moved a few steps forward. 
He advanced too and we made a stately progress 
to the dining-room side by side. I heard after- 
ward the explanation. It seemed that in those 
days (things have changed now I fancy) no Chinese 
of rank would touch any woman who didn't belong 
to him, and the ambassador would have thought 
himself dishonoured (as well as me) if he had of- 
fered me his arm. The dinner was anything but 
banal. 

When we finally got to the table I found myself 
on the marshal's left — Mrs. Grant was on his right. 
The marshal neither spoke nor understood English. 
Mrs. Grant spoke no French, so the conversation 
didn't seem likely to be very animated. After a 

[115] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

few moments Mrs. Grant naturally wished to say 
something to her host and she addressed him in 
English. "Mr. President, I am so happy to be 
in your beautiful country," then the marshal to 
me: "Madame Waddingtoji je vous en prie, dites 
a Madame Grant que je ne puis pas repondre; je 
ne comp rends pas I'anglais; je ne puis pas parler 
avec elle." "Mrs. Grant, the marshal begs me to 
say to you that he regrets not being able to talk 
with you, but unfortunately he does not under- 
stand English." Then there was a pause and Mrs. 
Grant began again: "What a beautiful palace, Mr. 
President. It must be delightful with that charm- 
ing garden." Again the marshal to me: "Mais je 
vous en prie Madame, dites a Madame Grant que 
je ne puis pas causer avec elle. II ne faut pas 
qu'elle me parle, je ne comprends pas." ."Mrs. 
Grant, the marshal is distressed that he cannot 
talk to you, but he really does not understand any 
English." It was very trying for Mrs. Grant. 
Happily her other neighbour knew a little English 
and she could talk to him, but all through dinner, 
at intervals, she began again at the marshal. 

After a few moments I turned my attention to 
my ambassador. I had been looking at him fur- 
tively while I was interpreting for the marshal and 
Mrs. Grant. I saw that he took everything that 

[116] 



THE EXPOSITION YEAR 

was offered to him — dishes, wines, sauces — but he 
never attacked anything without waiting to see 
what his neighbours did, when and how they used 
their knives and forks, — then did exactly as they 
did, — never made a mistake. I saw he was look- 
ing at the flowers on the table, which were very well 
arranged, so I said to him, speaking very slowly 
and distinctly, as one does to a child or a deaf per- 
son: "Have you pretty flowers in your country?" 
He replied promptly: *'Yes, yes, very hot, very 
cold, very hot, very cold." I was a little discon- 
certed, but thought I had perhaps spoken indis- 
tinctly, and after a little while I made another 
attempt: "How much the uniforms add to the 
brilliancy of the fete, and the Chinese dress is 
particularly striking and handsome," but to that 
he made such a perfectly unintelligible answer 
that I refrained from any further conversation and 
merely smiled at him from time to time, which he 
always acknowledged with a little bow. 

We went back to the salons in the same way, side 
by side, and when the men had gone into one of 
the other rooms to talk and smoke, I went to speak 
to the Marechale, who said to me: "I am sure you 
had a delightful dinner, Madame Waddington. 
The Chinese ambassador is such a clever man, has 
travelled a great deal, and speaks such wonderful 

[117] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

English." *' Wonderful indeed, Madame la Mare- 
chale," and then I repeated our conversation, 
which she could hardly believe, and which amused 
her very much. She spoke English as well as I 
did. 

The Grants were very much entertained during 
their stay in Paris, and we met them nearly every 
night. W^ liked the general very much and found 
him quite talkative when he was alone with him. 
At the big dinners he was of course at a disad- 
vantage, neither speaking nor understanding a 
word of French. W. acted as interpreter and 
found that very fatiguing. There is so much rep- 
a^'tee and sous-entendu in all French conversa- 
tion that even foreigners who know the language 
well find it sometimes difficult to follow every- 
thing, and to translate quickly enough to keep one 
au courant is almost impossible. When they could 
they drifted into English, and W. said he was most 
interesting — speaking of the war and all the North 
had done, without ever putting himself forward. 

W'e had both of us often to act as interpreters 
with French and x\nglo-Saxons, neither under- 
standing the other's language, and always found it 
difficult. I remember a dinner at Sandringham 
some years ago when W. was at the embassy. The 
Prince of Wales (late King Edward) asked me to 

[1181 



THE EXPOSITION YEAR 

sit next to a foreign ambassador who understood 
not one word of English. The dinner was exclu- 
sively English — a great many clever men — the 
master of Trinity College, Cambridge (asked es- 
pecially to meet my husband, who graduated from 
Trinity College), Lord Goschen, James Knowles 
of the Nineteenth Century, Froude, the historian, 
Sir Henry James, Lord Wolseley, etc. The talk 
was very animated, very witty. There were peals 
of laughter all around the table. My ambassador 
was very fidgety and nervous, appealing to me all 
the time, but by the time I had laboriously con- 
densed and translated some of the remarks, they 
were talking of something quite different, and I 
am afraid he had very hazy ideas as to what they 
were all saying. 

We saw, naturally, all the distinguished strang- 
ers who passed through Paris that year of 1878. 
Many of our colleagues in the diplomatic corps 
had played a great role in their own country. 
Prince Orloff , the Russian ambassador, was one of 
our great friends. He gave us very good advice 
on one or two occasions. He was a distinguished- 
looking man — always wore a black patch over one 
eye — he had been wounded in the Crimea. He 
spoke English as well as I did and was a charming 
talker. General Cialdini was at the Italian em- 

[1191 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

bassy. He was more of a soldier than a statesman 
— ^had contributed very successfully to the for- 
mation of "United Italy" and the suppression 
of the Pope's temporal power, and was naturally 
not exactly persona grata to the Catholics in 
France, Prince and Princess Hohenlohe had suc- 
ceeded Arnim at the German embassy. Their 
beginnings were difficult, as their predecessor had 
done nothing to make the Germans popular in 
France, but their strong personality, tact, and un- 
derstanding of the very delicate position helped 
them enormously. They were Catholics (the Prin- 
cess born a Russian — her brother. Prince Witt- 
genstein, military attache at the Russian em- 
bassy) and very big people in their own country, 
so absolutely sure of themselves and their position 
that it was very difficult to slight them in any 
way. They would never have perceived it unless 
some extraordinary rudeness were shown. The 
Princess was very striking-looking, tall, with a 
good figure, and splendid jewels. W^hen she was in 
full dress for a ball, or official reception, she wore 
three necklaces, one on top of the other, and a big 
handsome, high tiara, which added to her height. 
She was the only lady of the diplomatic corps 
whom Madame Grevy ever recognised in the first 
weeks of her husband's presidency. Madame 

[120] 



THE EXPOSITION YEAR 

Grevy was thrown suddenly not very young into 
such an absolutely new milieu, that she was quite 
bewildered and couldn't be expected to recognise 
half the women of the diplomatic corps, but the 
German ambassadress impressed her and she knew 
her always. The princess was not very mon- 
daine, didn't care about society and life in a city 
— preferred the country, with riding and shooting 
and any sort of sport. 

We had a very handsome dinner at the German 
embassy the winter of 1878 — given to the Marshal 
and Madame de MacMahon. After dinner, with 
coffee, a bear made its appearance in the draw- 
ing-room, a "baby bear" they said, but I didn't 
think it looked very small. The princess patted 
it, and talked to it just as if it were a dog, and I 
must say the little animal was perfectly quiet, and 
kept close to her. I think the lights and the quan- 
tity of people frightened it. It growled once or 
twice, and we all had a feeling of relief when it 
was taken away. I asked the Marechale afterward 
if she were afraid. "Oui, j'avais tres peur, mais 
je ne voulais pas le montrer devant ces alle- 
mands." (Yes, I was very frightened, but I would 
not show it before those Germans.) They had 
eventually to send the bear away, back to Ger- 
many. It grew wilder as it grew older, and be- 

[121] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

came quite unmanageable — they couldn't keep it 
in the embassy. 

Hohenlohe was always pleasant and easy. I 
think he had a real sympathy for France and did 
his best on various delicate occasions. The year 
of the exposition (1878) we dined out every night 
and almost always with the same people. Hohen- 
lohe often fell to me. He took me in to dinner 
ten times in succession. The eleventh time we 
were each of us in despair as we filed out together, 
so I said to him: "Don't let us even pretend to 
talk; you can talk to your other neighbour and I 
will to mine." However, we did talk chiffons, 
curiously enough. I had waited for a dress, 
which only came home at the last moment, and 
when I put it on the corsage was so tight I could 
hardly bear it. It was too late to change, and I 
had nothing else ready, so most uncomfortable I 
started for my dinner. I didn't dare to eat any- 
thing, hardly dared move, which Hohenlohe re- 
marked, after seeing three or four dishes pass me 
untouched, and said to me: "I am afraid you are 
ill; you are eating nothing." "No, not at all, 
only very uncomfortable" — and then I explained 
the situation to him — that my dress was so tight 
I could neither move nor eat. He was most in- 
dignant — "How could women be so foolish — why 

[122] 




' / 



Prince Hohenlohe. 

Aftei- tlie priinting by F K. L.-iszlu 



THE EXPOSITION YEAR 

did we want to have abnormally small waists and 
be slaves to our dressmakers? — men didn't like 
made-up figures." "Oh, yes, they do; all men ad- 
mire a slight, graceful figure." "Yes, when it is 
natural, but no man understands nor cares about a 
fashionably dressed woman — women dress for each 
other" (which is perfectly true). 

However, he was destined to see other ladies 
very careful about their figures. The late Em- 
press of Austria, who was a fine rider, spent some 
time one spring in Paris, and rode every morning 
in the Bois. She was very handsome, with a 
beautiful figure, had handsome horses and at- 
tracted great attention. Prince Hohenlohe often 
rode with her. I was riding with a friend one 
morning when we saw handsome horses waiting at 
the mounting-block, just inside the gates. We 
divined they were the Empress's horses and waited 
to see her mount. She arrived in a coupe, her 
maid with her, and mounted her horse from the 
block. The body of her habit was open. When 
she was settled in her saddle, the maid stepped up 
on the block and buttoned her habit, which I must 
say fitted beautifully — as if she were melted into it. 

The official receptions were interesting that year, 
as one still saw a few costumes. The Chinese, 
Japanese, Persians, Greeks, and Roumanians wore 

[123] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

their national dress — and much better they look 
in them than in the ordinary dress coat and white 
tie of our men. The Greek dress was very striking, 
a full white skirt with high embroidered belt, but 
it was only becoming when the wearer was young, 
with a good figure. I remember a pretty Rou- 
manian woman with a white veil spangled with 
gold, most effective. Now every one wears the 
ordinary European dress except the Chinese, who 
still keep their costume. One could hardly imagine 
a Chinese in a frock coat and tall hat. What 
would he do with his pigtail? 

The entertainments went on pretty well that 
year until August, almost all the embassies and 
ministries receiving. Queen Isabella of Spain 
was then living in the big house in the Avenue 
Kleber, called the "Palais d'Espagne" (now the 
Hotel Majestic). We used to meet her often driv- 
ing in the Bois. She was a big, stout, rather red- 
faced woman, didn't make much effect in a car- 
riage in ordinary street dress, but in her palace, 
when she received or gave an audience, she was a 
very royal lady. I asked for an audience soon 
after W. was named to the Foreign Office. We 
knew one of her chamberlains very well. Due de 
M., and he arranged it for me. I arrived at the 
palace on the appointed day a little before four (the 

[124] 



THE EXPOSITION YEAR 

audience was for four). The big gates were open, 
a tall porter dressed in red and gold lace and but- 
tons, and a staff in his hand, was waiting — two or 
three men in black, and four or five footmen in red 
liveries and powder, at the door and in the hall. 
I was shown at once to a small room on the ground 
floor, where four or five ladies, all Spanish and all 
fat, were waiting. In a few minutes the duke 
appeared. We talked a little (he looking at me to 
see if I had taken off my veil and my right-hand 
glove) and then a man in black appeared at the 
door, making a low bow and saying something in 
Spanish. The duke said would I come. Her Maj- 
esty was ready to receive me. We passed through 
several salons where there were footmen and 
pages (no ladies) until we came to a very large 
one quite at the other end of the palace. The 
big doors were open, and at the far end I saw 
the Queen standing, a stately figure (enormous), 
dressed in a long black velvet dress, a high dia- 
mond tiara on her head, from which hung a black 
lace veil, a fan in her hand (I suppose no Spanish 
woman of any station ever parts with her fan) and 
a splendid string of pearls. I made my curtsey 
on the threshold, the chamberlain named me with 
the usual formula: "I have the honour to present 
to Your Majesty, Madame Waddington, the wife 

[125 1 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

of the Minister of Foreign Affairs," then backed 
himself out of the room, and I proceeded down the 
long room to the Queen. She didn't move, let 
me make my two curtseys, one in the middle of 
the room, one when I came close up to her — and 
then shook hands. We remained standing a few 
minutes and then she sat down on a sofa (not a 
very small one) which she quite filled, and mo- 
tioned me to take an armchair on one side. She 
was very amiable, had a charming smile, spoke 
French very well but with a strong Spanish ac- 
cent. She said she was very glad to see my hus- 
band at the Foreign Office, and hoped he would 
stay long enough to do some real work — said she 
was very fond of France, loved driving in the 
streets of Paris, there was always so much to see 
and the people looked gay. She was very fond of 
the theatres, particularly the smaller ones, liked the 
real Parisian wit and gaiety better than the mea- 
sured phrase and trained diction of the Frangais 
and the Odcon. She spoke most warmly of Mar- 
shal MacMahon, hoped that he would remain 
President of the Republic as long as the Republi- 
cans would let him, was afraid they would make his 
position impossible — but that the younger genera- 
tion always wanted reforms and changes. I said I 
thought that was the way of the world everywhere, 

[126] 



THE EXPOSITION YEAR 

in families as well as nations — children could not 
be expected to see with the eyes of their parents. 
Then we talked about the exposition — she said 
the Spanish show was very good — told me to look 
at the tapestries and embroideries, which were 
quite wonderful — gold and silver threads worked 
in with the tapestries. The interview was pleas- 
ant and easy. When I took leave, she let me back 
down the whole length of the room, not half turn- 
ing away as so many princesses do after the first 
few steps, so as to curtail that very inconvenient 
exit. However, a day dress is never so long and 
cumbersome as an evening dress with a train. 

The chamberlain was waiting just outside the 
door, also two ladies in waiting, just as fat as the 
Queen. Certainly the mise en scene was very ef- 
fective. The number of servants in red liveries, 
the solitary standing figure at the end of the long 
enfilade of rooms, the high diamond comb and 
long veil, quite transformed the very stout, red- 
faced lady whom I used to meet often walking 
in the Bois. 

We dined once or twice at the palace, always a 
very handsome dinner. One for the Marshal and 
Madame de MacMahon was beautifully done — all 
the footmen, dozens, in gala liveries, red and yel- 
low, the maitre d'hotel in very dark blue with gold 

[127] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

epaulettes and aiguillettes. The table was cov- 
ered with red and yellow flowers and splendid gold 
plate, and a very good orchestra of guitars and 
mandolins played all through dinner, the musi- 
cians singing sometimes when they played a popu- 
lar song. We were all assembled in one of the 
large rooms waiting for the Queen to appear. As 
soon as the Marshal and Madame de MacMahon 
were announced, she came in, meeting them at 
the door, making a circle afterward, and shaking 
hands with all the ladies. 

Lord Lyons gave a beautiful ball at the em- 
bassy that season. The hotel of the British em- 
bassy is one of the best in Paris — fine reception- 
rooms opening on a very large garden, and a large 
courtyard and side exit — so there was no confu- 
sion of carriages. He had need of all his room — 
Paris was crowded with English. Besides all the 
exposition people, there were many tourists and 
well-known English people, all expecting to be 
entertained at the embassy. All the world was 
there. The Prince and Princess of Wales, the 
Marshal and Madame de MacMahon, the Orleans 
princes, Princesse Mathilde, the Faubourg St. 
Germain, the Government, and as many foreign- 
ers as the house could hold, as he invited a great 
many people, once his obligations, English and offi- 

[128] 



THE EXPOSITION YEAR 

cial, were satisfied. It was only at an embassy 
that such a gathering could take place, and it was 
amusing to see the people of all the different camps 
looking at each other. 

There was a supper up-stairs for all the royalties 
before the cotillion. I was told that the Due 
d'Aumale would take me to supper. I was very 
pleased (as we knew him very well and he was 
always charming to us) but much surprised, as 
the Orleans princes never remained for supper at 
any big official function. There would have been 
questions of place and precedence which would 
have been very difficult to settle. When the move 
was made for supper, things had to be changed, as 
the Orleans princes had gone home. The Crown 
Prince of Denmark took me. The supper-room 
was prettily arranged, two round tables — Lord 
Lyons with the Princesses of Wales and Denmark 
presiding at one — his niece, the Duchesse of Nor- 
folk, at the other, with the Princes of Wales and Den- 
mark. I sat between the Princes of Denmark and 
Sweden. Opposite me, next the Prince of Wales, sat 
a lady I didn't know. Every one else at the table 
did. She was very attractive-looking, with a charm- 
ing smile and most animated manner. I asked the 
Prince of Denmark in a low voice, who she was — 
thought it must be one of the foreign princesses I 

[1291 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

hadn't yet met. The Prince of Wales heard my 
question, and immediately, with his charming tact 
and ease of manner, said to me: "You don't know 
the Princesse Mathilde; do let me have the plea- 
sure of presenting you to her," naming me at once 
— in my official capacity, "wife of the Minister of 
Foreign Affairs." The princess was very gracious 
and smiling, and we talked about all sorts of things 
— some of her musical protegees, who were also 
mine. She asked me if I liked living at the min- 
istry, Quai d'Orsay; she remembered it as such a 
beautiful house. When the party broke up, she 
shook hands, said she had not the pleasure of know- 
ing M. Waddington, but would I thank him from 
her for what he had done for one of her friends. 
I tried to find W. after supper to present him to 
the princess, but he had already gone, didn't stay 
for the cotillion — the princess, too, went away im- 
mediately after supper. I met her once or twice 
afterward. She was always friendly, and we had 
little talks together. Her salon — she received 
once a week — was quite a centre — all the Bona- 
partists of course, the diplomatic corps, many 
strangers, and all the celebrities in literature and 
art. 

With that exception I never saw nor talked 
with any member of that family until I had been 

[1301 



THE EXPOSITION YEAR 

some years a widow, when the Empress Eugenie 
received me on her yacht at Cowes. When the 
news came of the awful tragedy of the Prince Im- 
perial's death in Zululand, W. was Foreign Min- 
ister, and he had invited a large party, with music. 
W. instantly put off the party, said there was no 
question of politics or a Bonapartist prince — it 
was a Frenchman killed, fighting bravely in a for- 
eign country. I always thought the Empress knew 
about it and appreciated his act, for during his 
embassy in London, though we never saw her, she 
constantly sent him w^ord through mutual friends 
of little negotiations she knew about and thought 
might interest him, and always spoke very well of 
him as a "clear-headed, patriotic statesman." I 
should have liked to have seen her in her prime, 
when she must have been extraordinarily beautiful 
and graceful. When I did see her she was no longer 
young, but a stately, impressive figure, and had still 
the beautiful brow one sees in all her pictures. One 
of our friends, a very clever woman and great anti- 
Bonapartist, told us an amusing story of her little 
son. The child was sometimes in the drawing- 
room when his mother was receiving, and heard 
her and all her friends inveighing against the iniqui- 
ties of the Imperial Court and the frivolity of the 
Empress. He saw the Empress walking one day 

[131] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

in the Bois de Boulogne. She was attracted by the 
group of children, stopped and talked to them. 
The boy was delighted and said to his governess: 
"Elle est bien jolie, ITmperatrice, mais il ne faut 
pas le dire a Maman." (The Empress is very 
pretty, but one must not say it to mother.) 



[ 13^2 



VII 
THE BERLIN CONGRESS 

OEVENTY-EIGHT was a most important year 
^^ for us in many ways. Besides the interest 
and fatigues of the exposition and the constant 
receiving and official festivities of all kinds, a great 
event was looming before us — the Berlin Con- 
gress. One had felt it coming for some time. 
There were all sorts of new delimitations and ques- 
tions to be settled since the war in the Balkans, 
and Europe was getting visibly nervous. Almost 
immediately after the opening of the exposition, 
the project took shape, and it was decided that 
France should participate in the Congress and send 
three representatives. It was the first time that 
France had asserted herself since the Franco- 
Prussian War in 1870, but it was time for her now 
to emerge from her self-imposed eflacement, and 
take her place in the Congress of nations. There 
were many discussions, both public and private, 
before the plenipotentiaires were named, and a 
great unwillingness on the part of many very intel- 

[133] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

ligent and patriotic Frenchmen to see the country 
launching itself upon dangerous ground and a 
possible conflict with Bismarck. However, the 
thing was decided, and the three plenipotentiaries 
named — Mr. Waddington, Foreign Minister, first; 
Comte de St. Vallier, a very clever and distin- 
guished diplomatist, actual ambassador at Ber- 
lin, second; and Monsieur Desprey, Directeur de 
la Politique au Ministere des Affaires Etrangeres, 
third. He was also a very able man, one of 
the pillars of the ministry, au courant of every 
treaty and negotiation for the last twenty years, 
very prudent and clear-headed. All W.'s col- 
leagues were most cordial and charming on his ap- 
pointment. He made a statement in the House of 
the line of policy he intended to adopt — and was 
absolutely approved and encouraged. Not a dis- 
paraging word of any kind was said, not even the 
usual remark of "cet anglais qui nous represente." 
He started the 10th of June in the best conditions 
possible — not an instruction of any kind from his 
chief, M. Dufaure, President du Conseil — very 
complimentary to him certainly, but the ministers 
taking no responsibility themselves — leaving the 
door open in case he made any mistakes. It was 
evident that the Parliament and Government were 
nervous. It was rather amusing, when all the 

[134] 




M. William Waddington. 

In tlie uniforiii he wore as Miuister of Foreign Affairs and at tile Berlin Congress, 1S7S 



THE BERLIN CONGRESS 

preparations for the departure were going on. W. 
took a large suite with him, secretaries, huissiers, 
etc., and I told them they were as much taken up 
with their coats and embroideries and cocked hats 
as any pretty woman with her dresses. I wanted 
very much to go, but W. thought he would be 
freer and have more time to think things over if I 
were not there. He didn't know Berlin at all, had 
never seen Bismarck nor any of the leading Ger- 
man statesmen, and was fully conscious how his 
every word and act would be criticised. However, 
if a public man is not criticised, it usually means 
that he is of no consequence — so attacks and crit- 
icisms are rather welcome — act as a stimulant. I 
could have gone and stayed unofficially with a 
cousin, but he thought that wouldn't do. St. Val- 
lier was a bachelor; it would have been rather an 
affair for him to organise at the embassy an apart- 
ment for a lady and her maids, though he was 
most civil and asked me to come. 

I felt rather lonely in the big ministry when 
they had all gone, and I was left with baby. W. 
stayed away just five weeks, and I performed va- 
rious official things in his absence — among others 
the Review of the 14th of July. The distinguished 
guest on that occasion was the Shah of Persia, 
who arrived with theMarechale in a handsome open 

[135] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

carriage, with outriders and postilions. The mar- 
shal of course was riding. The Shah was not at all 
a striking figure, short, stout, with a dark skin, 
and hard black eyes. He had handsome jewels, a 
large diamond fastening the white aigrette of his 
high black cap, and his sword-hilt incrusted with 
diamonds. He gave a stiff little nod in acknowl- 
edgment of the bows and curtseys every one made 
when he appeared in the marshal's box. He im- 
mediately took his seat on one side of theMarechale 
in front of the box, one of the ambassadresses. Prin- 
cess Hohenlohe I think, next to him. The military 
display seemed to interest him. Every now and 
then he made some remark to the Marechale, but 
he was certainly not talkative. While the inter- 
minable line of the infantry regiments was passing, 
there was a move to the back of the box, where 
there was a table with ices, champagne, etc. 
Madame de MacMahon came up to me, saying: 
*' Madame Waddington, Sa Majeste demande les 
nouvelles de M. Waddington," upon which His 
Majesty planted himself directly in front of me, so 
close that he almost touched me, and asked in a 
quick, abrupt manner, as if he were firing off a shot: 
*'0u est votre mari.^" (neither Madame, nor M. 
Waddington, nor any of the terms that are usually 
adopted in polite society). "A Berlin, Sire.'* 

[1361 



THE BERLIN CONGRESS 

"Pourquoi a Berlin?" "Comme plenipotentiaire 
Frangais au Congres de Berlin." "Oui, oui, je 
sais, je sais. Cela I'interesse?" "Beaucoup; il 
voit tant de personnes interessantes." "Oui, je 
sais. II va bien.^^" always coming closer to me, so 
that I was edging back against the wall, with his 
hard, bright little eyes fixed on mine, and always 
the same sharp, jerky tone. "II va parfaitement 
bien, je vous remercie." Then there was a pause 
and he made one or two other remarks which I 
didn't quite understand — I don't think his French 
went very far — but I made out something about 
"jolies femmes" and pointed out one or two to 
him, but he still remained staring into my face and 
I was delighted when his minister came up to him 
(timidly — all his people were afraid of him) and 
said some personage wanted to be presented to 
him. He shook hands with me, said something 
about "votre man revient bientot," and moved off. 
The Marechale asked me if I were not touched by 
His Majesty's solicitude for my husband's health, 
and wouldn't I like to come to the front of the 
box and sit next to him, but I told her I couldn't 
think of engrossing His Majesty's attention, as 
there were various important people who wished 
to be presented to him. I watched him a little 
(from a distance), trying to see if anything made 

[137] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

any impression on him (the crowd, the pretty, well- 
dressed women, the march past, the long lines of 
infantry, — rather fatiguing to see, as one line regi- 
ment looks very like another, — the chasseurs with 
their small chestnut horses, the dragoons more 
heavily mounted, and the guns), but his face re- 
mained absolutely impassive, though I think he saw 
everything. They told a funny story of him in 
London at one of the court balls. When he had 
looked on at the dancing for some time, he said to 
the Prince of Wales: "Tell those people to stop 
now, I have seen enough" — evidently thought it 
was a ballet performing for his amusement. An- 
other one, at one of the European courts was 
funny. The monarch was verj^ old, his consort 
also. When the Shah was presented to the royal 
lady, he looked hard at her without saying a word, 
then remarked to her husband: "Laide, vieille, 
pourquoi garder?" (Ugly, old; why keep her.^) 

I went to a big dinner and reception at the 
British Embassy, given for all the directors and 
commissioners of the exposition. It was a lovely 
warm night, the garden was lighted, everybody 
walking about, and an orchestra playing. Many 
of the officials had their wives and daughters with 
them, and some of the toilettes were wonderful. 
There were a good many pretty women, Swedes 

[138] 




Xasr-ed-Din, Shah of Persia. 



THE BERLIN CONGRESS 

and Danes, the Northern type, very fair hair and 
blue eyes, attracting much attention, and a group 
of Chinese (all in costume) standing proudly aloof 
— not the least interested apparently in the gay 
scene before them. I wonder what they thought 
of European manners and customs ! There was no 
dancing, which I suppose would have shocked their 
Eastern morals. Lord Lyons asked me why I 
wasn't in Berlin. I said, "For the best of reasons, 
my husband preferred going without me — but I 
hoped he would send for me perhaps at the end of 
the Congress." He told me Lady Salisbury was 
there with her husband. He seemed rather scep- 
tical as to the peaceful issue of the negotiations — 
thought so many unforeseen questions would come 
up and complicate matters. 

I went to a ball at the Hotel de Ville, also given 
for all the foreigners and French people connected 
with the exposition. The getting there was very 
long and tiring. The coupe-file did no good, as 
every one had one. Comte de Pontecoulant went 
with me and he protested vigorously, but one of 
the head men of the police, whom he knew well, 
came up to the carriage to explain that nothing 
could be done. There was a long line of diplo- 
matic and oflficial carriages, and we must take our 
chance with the rest. Some of our cousins (Amer- 

[139] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

icans) never got there at all — sat for hours in their 
carriage in the rue du Rivoli, moving an inch at 
a time. Happily it was a lovely warm night; and 
as we got near we saw lots of people walking who 
had left their carriages some little distance off, 
hopelessly wedged in a crowd of vehicles — the 
women in light dresses, with flowers and jewels in 
their hair. The rooms looked very handsome when 
at last we did get in, particularly the staircase, 
with a Garde Municipal on every step, and banks 
of palms and flowers on the landing in the hall, 
wherever flowers could be put. The Ville de 
Paris furnishes all the flowers and plants for the 
official receptions, and they always are very well 
arranged. Some trophies of flags too of all nations 
made a great effect. I didn't see many people I 
knew — it was impossible to get through the crowd, 
but some one got me a chair at the open window 
giving on the balcony, and I was quite happy sit- 
ting there looking at the people pass. The whole 
world was represented, and it was interesting to 
see the different types — Southerners, small, slight, 
dark, impatient, wriggling through the crowd — the 
Anglo-Saxons, big, broad, calm, squaring their 
shoulders when there came a sudden rush, and 
waiting quite patiently a chance to get a little 
ahead. Some of the women too pushed well — 

[140] 



THE BERLIN CONGRESS 

evidently determined to see all they could. I don't 
think any royalties, even minor ones, were there. 
W. wrote pretty regularly from Berlin, particu- 
larly the first days, before the real work of the 
Congress began. He started rather sooner than 
he had at first intended, so as to have a little time 
to talk matters over with St. Vallier and make ac- 
quaintance with some of his colleagues. St. Val- 
lier, with all the staff of the embassy, met him at 
the station when he arrived in Berlin, also Holstein 
(our old friend who was at the German Embassy 
in Paris with Arnim) to compliment him from 
Prince Bismarck, and he had hardly been fifteen 
minutes at the embassy when Count Herbert von 
Bismarck arrived w^ith greetings and compliments 
from his father. He went to see Bismarck the 
next day, found him at home, and very civil; he 
was quite friendly, very courteous and "bon- 
homme, original, and even amusing in his conver- 
sation, but with a hard look about the eyes which 
bodes no good to those who cross his path." He 
had just time to get back to the embassy and get 
into his uniform for his audience with the Crown 
Prince (late Emperor Frederick).* The Vice Grand- 

* The Crown Prince represented his father at all the functions. 
Some days before the meeting of the Congress the old Emperor 
had been wounded in the arm by a nihilist, Nobiling, who fired 
from a window when the Emperor was passing in an open carriage. 

[141] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

Maitre des Ceremonies came for him in a court 
carriage and they drove off to the palace — W. 
sitting alone on the back seat, the grand-maitre 
facing him on the front. "I was ushered into a 
room where the Prince was standing. He was 
very friendly and talked for twenty minutes about 
all sorts of things, in excellent French, with a few 
words of English now and then to show he knew 
of my English connection. He spoke of my travels 
in the East, of the de Bunsens, of the Emperor's 
health (the old man is much better and decidedly 
recovering) — and of his great wish for peace." 
All the plenipotentiaries had not yet arrived. 
They appeared only on the afternoon of the 12th, 
the day before the Congress opened. Prince Bis- 
marck sent out the invitation for the first sitting: 

" Le Prince de Bismarck 
a I'hanneur de prevenir Son Excellence, Monsieur Wad- 
dington, que la premiere reunion du Congres aura lieu le 
13 juin a deux heures, au Palais du Chancelier de I'Em- 
pire, 77, Wilhelmstrasse. 

" Berlin, le 12 juin 1878." 

It was a brilliant assemblage of great names and 
intelligences that responded to his invitation — 
Gortschakoff, Schouvaloff, Andrassy, Beaconsfield, 

The wound was slight, but the old man was much shaken and un- 
able to take any part in the ceremonies or receive any of the plen- 
ipotentiaries. 

[142] 



THE BERLIN CONGRESS 

Salisbury, K^^r^^ Hohenlolie, Corti, and many 
others, younger men, who acted as secretaries. 
French was the language spoken, the only excep- 
tion being made by Lord BeaconsiBeld, who always 
spoke in English, although it was most evident, W. 
said, that he understood French perfectly well. 
The first day was merely an official opening of the 
Congress — every one in uniform — but only for 
that occasion. After that they all went in ordi- 
nary morning dress, putting on their uniforms again 
on the last day only, when they signed the treaty. 
W. writes: "Bismarck presides and did his part 
well to-day; he speaks French fairly but very 
slowly, finding his words with difficulty, but he 
knows what he means to say and lets every one see 
that he does." No one else said much that first 
day; each man was rather reserved, waiting for his 
neighbour to begin. Beaconsfield made a short 
speech, which was trying for some of his colleagues, 
particularly the Turks, who had evidently much 
difficulty in understanding English. They were 
counting upon England's sympathy, but a little 
nervous as to a supposed agreement between En- 
gland and Russia. The Russians listened most 
attentively. There seemed to be a distrust of En- 
gland on their part and a decided rivalry between 
Gortschakoff and Beaconsfield. The Congress 

[143] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

dined that first night with the Crown Prince at 
the Schloss in the famous white hall — all in uni- 
form and orders. W. said the heat was a^vful, 
but the evening interesting. There were one hun- 
dred and forty guests, no ladies except the royal 
princesses, not even the ambassadresses. W. sat 
on Bismarck's left, who talked a great deal, in- 
tending to make himself agreeable. He had a long 
talk after dinner with the Crown Princess (Prin- 
cess Royal of England) who spoke English with 
him. He found her charming — intelligent and 
cultivated and so easy — not at all stiff and shy 
like so many royalties. He saw her very often 
during his stay in Berlin, and she was unfailingly 
kind to him — and to me also when I knew her 
later in Rome and London. She always lives in 
my memory as one of the most charming women I 
have ever met. Her face often comes back to me 
with her beautiful bright smile and the saddest 
eyes I have ever seen. I have known very few 
like her. W. also had a talk with Prince Frederick- 
Charles, father of the Duchess of Connaught, whom 
he found rather a rough-looking soldier with a 
short, abrupt manner. He left bitter memories 
in France during the Franco-German War, was 
called the "Red Prince," he was so hard and cruel, 
always ready to shoot somebody and burn down 

[144] 




Prince Bismarck. 
Fioin a sketcli by Antou voii Weiiiej-, ISSU. 



THE BERLIN CONGRESS 

villages on the slightest provocation — so different 
from the Prince Imperial, the "unser Fritz" of 
the Germans, who always had a kind word for the 
fallen foe. 

W.'s days were very full, and when the impor- 
tant sittings began it was sometimes hard work. 
The Congress room was very hot (all the colleagues 
seemed to have a holy horror of open windows) — 
and some of the men very long and tedious in 
stating their cases. Of course they were at a dis- 
advantage not speaking their own language (very 
few of them knew French well, except the Rus- 
sians), and they had to go very carefully, and be 
quite sure of the exact significance of the words 
they used. W. got a ride every morning, as the 
Congress only met in the afternoon. They rode 
usually in the Thiergarten, which is not very large, 
but the bridle-paths were good. It was very dif- 
ficult to get out of Berlin into the open country 
without going through a long stretch of suburbs 
and sandy roads which were not very tempting. 
A great many officers rode in the park, and one 
morning when he was riding with the military at- 
tache of the embassy, two officers rode up and 
claimed acquaintance, having known him in France 
in '70, the year of the war. They rode a short 
time together, and the next day he received an in- 

[145] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

vitation from the oflScers of a smart Uhlan regi- 
ment to dine at their mess "in remembrance of the 
kind hospitahty shown to some of their officers 
who had been quartered at his place in France 
during the war." As the hospitality was decidedly 
forced, and the presence of the German officers not 
very agreeable to the family, the invitation was 
not very happy. It was well meant, but was one 
of those curious instances of German want of tact 
which one notices so much if one lives much with 
Germans. The hours of the various entertainments 
were funny. At a big dinner at Prince Bismarck's 
the guests were invited at six, and at eight-thirty 
every one had gone. W. sat next to Countess 
Marie, the daughter of the house, found her 
simple and inclined to talk, speaking both French 
and English well. Immediately after dinner the 
men all smoked everywhere, in the drawing-room, 
on the terrace, some taking a turn in the park with 
Bismarck. W. found Princess Bismarck not very 
femme du monde; she was preoccupied first with 
her dinner, then with her husband, for fear he 
should eat too much, or take cold going out of the 
warm dining-room into the evening air. There 
were no ladies at the dinner except the family. 
(The German lady doesn't seem to occupy the 
same place in society as the French and English 

[146] 



THE BERLIN CONGRESS 

woman does. In Paris the wives of ambassadors 
and ministers are always invited to all oflBcial 
banquets.) 

Amusements of all kinds were provided for the 
plenipotentiaries. Early in July W. writes of a 
*'Land-parthie" — the whole Congress (wives too 
this time) invited to Potsdam for the day. He was 
rather dreading a long day — excursions were not 
much in his line. However, this one seems to have 
been successful. He writes: " Our excursion went 
off better than could be expected. The party 
consisted of the plenipotentiaries and a certain 
number of court officers and generals. We started 
by rail, stopped at a station called Wannsee, and 
embarked on board a small steamer, the Princess 
Royal receiving the guests as they arrived on 
board. We then started for a trip on the lakes, 
but before long there came a violent squall which 
obliged the sailors to take down the awnings in 
double-quick time, and drove every one down into 
the cabins. It lasted about half an hour, after 
which it cleared up and every one reappeared on 
deck. In course of time we landed near Babels- 
berg, where carriages were waiting. I was told 
off to go in the first with the Princess Royal, 
Countess Karolyi (wife of the Austrian ambas- 
sador, a beautiful young woman), and Andrassy. 

[147] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

We went over the Chateau of Babelsberg, which 
is a pretty Gothic country-seat, not a palace, 
and belongs to the present Emperor. After that 
we had a longish drive, through different parks 
and villages, and finally arrived at Sans Souci, 
where we dined. After dinner we strolled through 
the rooms and were shown the different sou- 
venirs of Frederick the Great, and got home at 
ten-thirty." W. saw a good deal of his cousin, 
George de Bunsen, a charming man, very culti- 
vated and cosmopolitan. He had a pretty house 
in the new quarter of Berlin, and was most hos- 
pitable. He had an interesting dinner there with 
some of the literary men and savants — Momm- 
sen, Leppius, Helmholtz, Curtius, etc., most of 
them his colleagues, as he was a member of the 
Berlin Academy. He found those evenings a de- 
lightful change after the long hot afternoons in 
the Wilhelmsstrasse, where necessarily there was 
so much that was long and tedious. I think even 
he got tired of Greek frontiers, notwithstanding his 
sympathy for the country\ He did what he could 
for the Greeks, who were very grateful to him and 
gave him, in memory of the efforts he made on 
their behalf, a fine group in bronze of a female 
figure — "Greece" throwing off the bonds of Tur- 
key. Some of the speakers were very interesting. 

[148] 



THE BERLIN CONGRESS 

He found Schouvaloff always a brilliant debater — 
he spoke French perfectly, was always good-hu- 
moured and courteous, and defended his cause well. 
One felt there was a latent animosity between the 
English and the Russians. Lord Beaconsfield 
made one or two strong speeches — very much to 
the point, and slightly arrogant, but as they were 
always made in English, they were not under- 
stood by all the Assembly. W. was always pleased 
to meet Prince Hohenlohe, actual German am- 
bassador to Paris (who had been named the third 
German plenipotentiary). He was perfectly au 
courant of all that went on at court and in the 
oflScial world, knew everybody, and introduced W. 
to various ladies who received informally, where 
he could spend an hour or two quietly, without 
meeting all his colleagues. Blowitz, of course, ap- 
peared on the scene — the most important person in 
Berlin (in his own opinion). I am not quite con- 
vinced that he saw all the people he said he did, 
or whether all the extraordinary confidences were 
made to him which he related to the public, but 
he certainly impressed people very much, and I 
suppose his letters as newspaper correspondent 
were quite wonderful. He was remarkably intel- 
ligent and absolutely unscrupulous, didn't hesitate 
to put into the mouths of people what he wished 

[149] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

them to say, so he naturally had a great pull over 
the ordinary simple-minded journalist who wrote 
simply what he saw and heard. As he was the 
Paris correspondent of The London Times, he was 
often at the French Embassy. W. never trusted 
him very much, and his flair was right, as he 
was anything but true to him. The last days of 
the Congress were very busy ones. The negotia- 
tions were kept secret enough, but things always 
leak out and the papers had to say something. I 
was rather emue at the tone of the French press, 
but W. wrote me not to mind — they didn't really 
know anything, and when the treaty was signed 
France would certainly come out very honourably. 
All this has long passed into the domain of history, 
and has been told so many times by so many dif- 
ferent people that I will not go into details except 
to say that the French protectorate of Tunis (now 
one of our most flourishing colonies) was entirely 
arranged by W. in a long confidential conversation 
with Lord Salisbury. The cession of the Island 
of Cyprus by Turkey to the English was a most 
unexpected and disagreeable surprise to W. How- 
ever, he went instantly to Lord Salisbury, who was 
a little embarrassed, as that negotiation had been 
kept secret, which didn't seem quite fair — every- 
thing else having been openly discussed around the 

[150] 



THE BERLIN CONGRESS 

council table. He quite understood W.'s feelings 
in the matter, and was perfectly willing to make 
an arrangement about Tunis. The thing was 
neither understood nor approved at first by the 
French Government. W. returned to Paris, "les 
mains vides; seulement a chercher dans sa poche 
on y eut trouve les cles de la Tunisie" — as one of 
his friends defined the situation some years ago. 
He was almost disavowed by his Government. 
The ministers were timid and unwilling that France 
should take any initiative — even his friend, Leon 
Say, then Minister of Finances, a very clever 
man and brilliant politician, said: "Notre collegue 
Waddington, contre son habitude, s'est emballe 
cette fois pour la question de la Tunisie." (Our 
colleague Waddington, contrary to his nature, has 
quite lost his head this time over the Tunis ques- 
tion.) I think the course of events has fully jus- 
tified his action, and now that it has proved such 
a success, every one claims to have taken the initi- 
ative of the French protectorate of Tunis. All 
honours have been paid to those who carried out 
the project, and very little is said of the man who 
originated the scheme in spite of great difficulties 
at home and abroad. Some of W.'s friends know 
the truth. 

There was a great exchange of visits, photo- 
[151] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

graphs, and autographs the last days of the Con- 
gress. Among other things which W. brought 
back from BerHn, and which will be treasured by 
his grandsons as a historical souvenir, was a fan, 
quite a plain wooden fan, with the signatures of all 
the plenipotentiaries — some of them very charac- 
teristic. The French signatures are curiously small 
and distinct, a contrast to Bismarck's smudge. 
W. was quite sorry to say good-bye to some of his 
colleagues. Andrassy, with his quick sympathies 
and instant comprehension of all sides of a ques- 
tion, attracted him very much. He was a striking 
personality, quite the Slav type. W. had little 
private intercourse with Prince Gortschakoff — 
who was already an old man and the type of the 
old-fashioned diplomatist — making very long and 
well-turned phrases which made people rather im- 
patient. On the whole W. was satisfied. He 
writes two or three days before the signing of the 
treaty: "As far as I can see at present, no one will 
be satisfied with the result of the Congress; it is 
perhaps the best proof that it is dealing fairly and 
equitably with the very exaggerated claims and 
pretensions of all parties. Anyhow, France will 
come out of the whole affair honourably and hav- 
ing done all that a strictly neutral power can do." 
The treaty was signed on July 13 by all the pleni- 

[152] 



THE BERLIN CONGRESS 

potentiarles in full uniform. W. said there was a 
decided feeling of satisfaction and relief that it was 
finished. Even Bismarck looked less preoccupied, 
as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. 
Of course he was supposed to have had his own way 
in everything. Everybody (not only the French) 
was afraid of him. With his iron will, and un- 
scrupulous brushing aside, or even annihilating, 
everything that came in his way, he was a formi- 
dable adversary. There was a gala dinner at the 
Schloss, to celebrate the signing of the treaty. 
*'It was the exact repetition of the first, at the 
opening of the Congress. I sat on the left of Bis- 
marck, and had a good deal of conversation with 
him. The Crown Prince and Princess were just 
opposite, and the Princess talked a great deal with 
me across the table, always in English." The 
Crown Princess could never forget that she was 
born Princess Royal of England. Her household 
was managed on English principles, her children 
brought up by English nurses, she herself always 
spoke English with them. Of course there must 
have been many things in Germany which were 
distasteful to her, — so many of the small refine- 
ments of life which are absolute necessaries in En- 
gland were almost unknown luxuries in Germany, 
— particularly when she married. Now there has 

[153] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

been a great advance in comfort and even elegance 
in German houses and habits. Her Enghsh pro- 
clivities made her a great many enemies, and I 
don't believe the "Iron Chancellor" made things 
easy for her. The dinner at the Schloss was as 
usual at six o'clock, and at nine W. had to go to 
take leave of the Empress, who was very French 
in her sympathies, and had always been very kind 
to him. Her daughter, the Grand Duchess of 
Baden, was there, and W. had a very pleasant 
hour with the two ladies. The Empress asked him 
a great many questions about the Congress, and 
particularly about Bismarck — if he was in a fairly 
good temper — when he had his nerves he was sim- 
ply impossible, didn't care what people thought 
of him, and didn't hesitate to show when he was 
bored. The Grand Duchess added smilingly: 
*'He is perfectly intolerant, has no patience with a 
fool." I suppose most people are of this opinion. 
I am not personally. I have some nice, foolish, 
kindly, happy friends of both sexes I am always 
glad to see; I think they are rather resting in these 
days of high education and culture and pose. W. 
finished his evening at Lady Salisbury's, who had 
a farewell reception for all the plenipotentiaries. 
He took leave of his colleagues, all of whom had 
been most friendly. The only one who was a little 

[154] 



THE BERLIN CONGRESS 

stiff with him and expressed no desire to meet him 
again was Corti, the Itahan plenipotentiary. He 
suspected of course that something had been ar- 
ranged about Tunis, and was much annoyed that 
he hadn't been able to get Tripoli for Italy. He 
was our colleague afterward in London, and there 
was always a little constraint and coolness in his 
manner. W. left Berlin on the 17th, having been 
five weeks away. 



[155 



GAIETIES AT THE QUAI D'ORSAY 

TT 7 GOT home on the 17th, and was so busy 
* * • the first days, with his colleagues and po- 
litical friends that I didn't see much more of him 
than if he had been in Berlin. He was rather dis- 
gusted and discouraged at the view his colleagues of 
the cabinet and his friends took of France's attitude 
at the Congress. The only man who seemed to 
be able to look ahead a little and understand what 
a future there might be for France in Tunis was 
Gambetta. I remember quite well his telling of 
an interesting conversation with him. Gambetta 
was very keen about foreign affairs, very patriotic, 
and not at all willing that France should remain 
indefinitely a weakened power, still suffering from 
the defeat of 1870. There were many fetes and 
reunions of all kinds, all through the summer 
months, as people had flocked to Paris for the ex- 
position. We remained in town until the first days 
of August, then W. went to his Conseil-General 
in the Department of the Aisne, and I went down 

[1561 



GAIETIES AT THE QUAI D'ORSAY 

to Deauville. He joined me there, and we had a 
pleasant month — bathing, driving, and seeing a 
great many people. We had taken Sir Joseph 
Oliffe's villa, one of the best in Deauville. Oliffe, 
an Englishman, was one of Emperor Napoleon's 
physicians, and he and the Due de Morny were the 
founders of Deauville, which was very fashionable 
as long as Morny lived and the Empire lasted, 
but it lost its vogue for some years after the Franco- 
German War — fashion and society generally con- 
gregating at Trouville. There were not many 
villas then, and one rather bad hotel, but the sea 
was nearer than it is now and people all went to 
the beach in the morning, and fished for shrimps 
in the afternoon, and led a quiet out-of-doors life. 
There was no polo nor golf nor automobiles — not 
many carriages, a good tennis-court, where W. 
played regularly, and races every Sunday in Au- 
gust, which brought naturally a gay young crowd 
of all the sporting world. The train des maris 
that left Paris every Saturday evening, brought a 
great many men. It was quite different from the 
Deauville of to-day, which is charming, with quan- 
tities of pretty villas and gardens and sports of all 
kinds, but the sea is so far off one has to take 
quite a long walk to get to it, and the mornings 
on the beach and the expeditions to Trouville in 

[ 157 ] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

the afternoon across the ferry, to do a Httle shop- 
ping in the rue de Paris, are things of the past. 
Curiously enough while I was looking over my 
notes the other day, I had a visit from an old 
friend, the Due de M., who was one of the inner 
circle of the imperial household of the Emperor 
Napoleon III, and took an active part in all that 
went on at court. He had just been hearing from a 
friend of the very brilliant season at Deauville this 
year, and the streams of gold that flowed into the 
caisse of the management of the new hotel and 
casino. Every possible luxury and every induce- 
ment to spend money, racing, gambling, pretty 
women of all nationalities and facile character, 
beautifully dressed and covered with jewels, side by 
side with the bearers of some of the proudest names 
in France. He said that just fifty years ago he 
went to Deauville with the Due de Morny, Prin- 
cesse Metternich, and the Comtesse de Pourteles 
to inaugurate the new watering-place, then of 
the simplest description. The ladies were badly 
lodged in a so-called hotel and he had a room in a 
fisherman's hut. 

Marshal MacMahon had a house near Trouville 
that year, and he came over occasionally to see W., 
always on horseback and early in the morning. 
W. used to struggle into his clothes when "M. le 

[1581 



GAIETIES AT THE QUAI D'ORSAY 

Marechal" was announced. I think the marshal 
preferred his mihtary title very much to his civic 
honours. I suppose there never was so unwilling 
a president of a republic, except many years later 
Casimir Perier, who certainly hated the "prison of 
the Ely see," but the marshal was a soldier, and his 
military discipline helped him through many diffi- 
cult positions. We had various visitors who came 
down for twenty-four hours — one charming visit 
from the Marquis de Voglie, then French ambassa- 
dor at Vienna, where he was very much liked, a 
persona grata in every way. He was very tall, 
distinguished-looking, quite the type of the am- 
bassador. When I went to inspect his room I was 
rather struck by the shortness of the bed — didn't 
think his long legs could ever get into it. The 
valet assured me it was all right, the bed was nor- 
mal, but I doubt if he had a very comfortable night. 
He and W. were old friends, had travelled in the 
East together and discussed every possible subject 
during long starlight nights in the desert. They 
certainly never thought then that one day they 
would be closely associated as ambassador and 
foreign minister. Vogiie didn't like the Repub- 
lic, didn't believe in the capacity or the sincerity 
of the Republicans — couldn't understand how W. 
could. He was a personal friend of the marshal's, 

[159] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

remained at Vienna during the marshal's presi- 
dency, but left with him, much to W.'s regret, who 
knew what good service he had done at Vienna 
and what a difficult post that would be for an im- 
provised diplomatist. It was then, and I fancy is 
still, one of the stiffest courts in Europe. One 
hears amusing stories from some diplomatists 
of the rigid etiquette in court circles, which the 
Americans were always infringing. A great friend 
of mine, an American, who had lived all her life 
abroad, and whose husband was a member of the 
diplomatic corps in Vienna, was always worrying 
over the misdemeanours of the Americans who 
never paid any attention to rules or court etiquette. 
They invaded charmed circles, walked boldly up 
to archdukes and duchesses, talking to them cheer- 
fully and easily without waiting to be spoken to, 
giving them a great deal of information upon all 
subjects, Austrian as well as American, and prob- 
ably interested the very stiff Austrian royalties 
much more than the ordinary trained diplomatist, 
who would naturally be more correct in his atti- 
tude and conversation. I think the American na- 
tionality is the most convenient in the world. The 
Americans do just as they like, and no one is ever 
surprised. The explanation is quite simple : "They 
are Americans." I have often noticed little faults 

[160] 



GAIETIES AT THE QUAI D'ORSAY 

of manners or breeding, which would shock one in a 
representative of an older civilisation, pass quite 
unnoticed, or merely provoke a smile of amuse- 
ment. 

We drove about a great deal — the country at the 
back of Deauville, going away from the sea, is 
lovely — very like England — charming narrow roads 
with high banks and hedges on each side — big 
trees with spreading branches meeting overhead — 
stretches of green fields with cows grazing placidly 
and horses and colts gambolling about. It is a 
great grazing and breeding country. There are 
many haras (breeding stables) in the neighbour- 
hood, and the big Norman posters are much in 
demand. I have friends who never take their 
horses to the country. They hire for the season a 
pair of strong Norman horses that go all day up 
and down hill at the same regular pace and who 
get over a vast amount of country. We stopped 
once or twice when we were a large party, two or 
three carriages, and had tea at one of the numerous 
farmhouses that were scattered about. Boiling 
water was a difficulty — milk, cider, good bread and 
butter, cheese we could always find — sometimes a 
galette, but a kettle and boiling water were entirely 
out of their habits. They used to boil the water 
in a large black pot, and take it out with a big 

[161] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

spoon. However, it amused us, and the water 
really did boil. 

We had an Italian friend, Count A., who went 
with us sometimes, and he was very debrouillard, 
made himself delightful at once to the fermiere 
and got whatever he wanted — chairs and tables 
set out on the grass, with all the cows and 
colts and chickens walking about quite undis- 
turbed by the unusual sights and sounds. It 
was all very rustic and a delightful change from 
the glories of the exposition and official life. It 
amused me perfectly to see W. with a straw hat, 
sitting on a rather rickety three-legged stool, eating 
bread and butter and jam. Once or twice some of 
W.'s secretaries came down with despatches, and 
he had a good morning's work, but on the whole 
the month passed lazily and pleasantly. 

We went back to Paris about the 10th of Sep- 
tember, and remained there until the end of the 
exposition. Paris was again crowded with for- 
eigners — the month of October was beautiful, 
bright and warm, and the afternoons at the expo- 
sition were delightful at the end of the day, when 
the crowd had dispersed a httle and the last rays 
of the setting sun lingered on the Meudon Hills 
and the river. The buildings and costumes lost 
their tawdry look, and one saw only a mass of 

[1G2] 



GAIETIES AT THE QUAI D'ORSAY 

moving colour, which seemed to soften and lose 
itself in the evening shadows. There were vari- 
ous closing entertainments. The marshal gave a 
splendid fete at Versailles. We drove out and had 
some difficulty in making our way through the 
crowd of carriages, soldiers, police, and spectators 
that lined the road. It was a beautiful sight as 
we got near the palace, which was a blaze of light. 
The terraces and gardens were also illuminated, 
and the effect of the little lamps hidden away in 
the branches of the old trees, cut into all sorts of 
fantastic shapes, was quite wonderful. There were 
not as many people at the entrance of the palace 
as we had expected to find, for the invitations had 
been most generously given to all nationalities. 
At first the rooms, which were brilliantly lighted, 
looked almost empty. The famous Galerie des 
Glaces was quite enchanting, almost too light, if 
there can be too much light at a fete. There were 
very few people in it when we arrived rather early 
— so much so that when I said to M. de L., one of 
the marshal's aides-de-camp, "How perfectly beau- 
tiful it is, even now, empty; what will it be when 
all the uniforms and jewels are reflected in the 
mirrors," his answer was: "Ah, Madame, I am 
afraid w^e shan't have people enough, the hall is so 
enormous." 

[163] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

I thought of him afterward when an angry- 
crowd was battering at the doors of one of the 
salons where the royalties were having refresh- 
ments. I don't think they realised, and we cer- 
tainly didn't, what the noise meant, but some of 
the marshal's household, who knew that only a 
slight temporary partition was between us and an 
irate mob, struggling up the staircase, were green 
with anxiety. However, the royalties all got away 
without any difficulty, and we tried to hurry im- 
mediately after them, but a dense crowd was then 
pouring into the room at each end, and for a mo- 
ment things looked ugly. The gentlemen, my 
husband and my brother-in-law, Eugene Schuyler, 
Lord Lyons, British ambassador (a big square- 
shouldered man), and one or two others, put us, 
my sister Schuyler and me, in a recess of one of the 
big windows, with heavy furniture in front of us, 
but that was not very pleasant — wuth the crowd 
moving both ways closing in upon us — and the 
men were getting nervous, so one of our secre- 
taries squeezed through the crowd and found two 
or three huissiers, came back with them, and we 
made a procession — two big huissiers in front, 
with their silver chains and swords, the mark of 
official status, which always impresses a French 
crowd, then Lord Lyons, my sister, and I, then 

[104] 



GAIETIES AT THE QUAI D'ORSAY 

W. and Schuyler, and two more men behind us — 
and with considerable difficulty and a good many 
angry expostulations, we made our way out. 
Happily our carriages and servants with our wraps 
were waiting in one of the inner courts, and we 
got away easily enough, but the evening was dis- 
astrous to most of the company. 

There must have been some misunderstanding 
between the marshal's household and the officials 
at Versailles, as but one staircase (and there are 
several) was opened to the public, which was of 
course absolutely insufficient. Why others were 
not opened and lighted will always be a mystery. 
Every one got jammed in the one narrow stairway 
— people jostled and tumbled over each other — 
some of the women fainted and were carried out, 
borne high aloft over the heads of the struggling 
multitudes, and many people never saw their 
cloaks again. The vestiaire was taken by storm 
— satin and lace cloaks lying on the ground, tram- 
pled upon by everybody, and at the end, various 
men not having been able to find their coats 
were disporting themselves in pink satin cloaks 
lined with swan's-down — over their shoulders. 
Quantities of people never got into the palace — 
not even on the staircase. The landing was di- 
rectly opposite the room where the princes had 

[165] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

their buffet — and if they had succeeded in forcing 
the door, it would have been a catastrophe. While 
we were standing in the window, looking into the 
park, which looked an enchanted garden, with the 
lights and flowers — we wondered if we could jump 
or climb down if the crowd pressed too much upon 
us, but it was too high and there were no project- 
ing balconies to serve as stepping-stones. It was 
a very unpleasant experience. 

We were giving a ball at the Quai d'Orsay a few 
nights afterward, and had also asked a great 
many people — all the ambassadors sent in very 
large lists of invitations they wanted for their 
compatriots, but much the largest was that sent 
in by the American minister. The invitations 
sent to the United States Legation (as it was then) 
were something fabulous. It seemed to me the 
whole of the United States were in Paris and ex- 
pecting to be entertained. It is a very difficult 
position for the American representative on these 
occasions. Everybody can't be invited to the 
various entertainments and distinctions are very 
hard to make. We had some amusing experiences. 
W. had a letter from one of his English friends, 
Lord H., saying he was coming to Paris for the 
fetes, with his two daughters, and he would like 
very much to be invited to some of the parties at 

[16G] 



GAIETIES AT THE QUAI D'ORSAY 

the Elysee and the ministries. W. repHed, saying 
he would do what he could, and added that we 
were to have two large dinners and receptions, — 
one with the Comedie Frangaise afterward and 
one with music — which one would they come to. 
Lord H. promptly replied, "to both." It was 
funny, but really didn't make any difference. 
When you have a hundred people to dinner you 
can quite easily have a hundred and three, and 
in such large parties, arranged weeks beforehand, 
some one always gives out at the last moment. 

We had a great many discussions in W.'s cabinet 
with two of his secretaries, who were especially 
occupied with the invitations for our ball. The 
Parliament of course (le peuple souverain) was 
invited, but it was a different question for the 
women, wives of the senators and deputies. We 
finally arrived at a solution by inviting only the 
wives I knew. We had an indignant response 
from one gentleman: "M. X., Depute, ne valsant 
qu'avec sa femme, a I'honneur de renvoyer la carte 
d'invitation que le Ministre des Affaires Etrangeres 
et Madame Waddington lui ont adressee pour la 
soiree du 28. . . ." (Mr. X., Deputy, who waltzes 
only with his wife, has the honour to send back the 
card of invitation which the Minister of Foreign 
Affairs and Madame Waddington have sent to 

[167] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

him for the party of the 28. . . .) It was unani- 
mously decided that the couple must be invited — 
a gentleman who went to balls only to dance with 
his wife must be encouraged in such exemplary be- 
haviour. Another was funny too, in a different 
style: "Madame K., etant au ciel depuis quelques 
annees, ne pourrait pas se rendre a la gracieuse in- 
vitation que le Ministre des Affaires Etrangeres et 
Madame Waddington ont bien voulu lui adresser. 
Monsieur K. s'y rendra avec plaisir." . . . (Ma- 
dame K., being in heaven for some years, cannot 
accept the amiable invitation of the Minister of 
Foreign Affairs and Madame Waddington. Mr. 
K. will come with pleasure.) W^e kept the letters 
in our archives with many other curious speci- 
mens. The house was given over to w^orkmen the 
last two or three days before the ball. With the 
remembrance of the staircase at Versailles in our 
minds, we were most anxious to have no contre- 
temps of any kind to interfere with our entertain- 
ment. Both entrances were arranged and the old 
elevator (which had not worked for years) was 
put in order. It had been suggested once or twice 
that I should use it, but as I always had heard 
a gruesome tale of Madame Drouyn de THuys, 
when her husband was Foreign Minister, hanging 
in space for four or five hours between the two 

[168] 



GAIETIES AT THE QUAI D'ORSAY 

floors, I was not inclined to repeat that experi- 
ence. 

My recollection of the lower entrance and stair- 
case, which we never used, was of rather a dark, 
grimy corner, and I was amazed the morning of the 
ball to see the transformation. Draperies, tapes- 
tries, flags, and green plants had done wonders 
— and the elevator looked quite charming with red 
velvet hangings and cushions. I don't think any 
one used it. We had asked our guests at nine- 
thirty, as the princes said they would come at ten. 
I was ready about nine, and thought I would go 
down-stairs by the lower entrance, so as to have a 
look at the staircase and all the rooms before any 
one came. There was already such a crowd in 
the rooms that I couldn't get through; even my 
faithful Gerard could not make a passage. We 
were obliged to send for two huissiers, who with 
some difficulty made room for me. W. and his 
staff were already in the salon reserve, giving final 
instructions. The servants told us that since eight 
o'clock there had been a crowd at the doors, which 
they opened a little before nine, and a flood of peo- 
ple poured in. The salon reserve had a blue ribbon 
stretched across the entrance from door to door, 
and was guarded by huissiers, old hands who knew 
everybody in the diplomatic and official world, 

[169] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

and would not let any one in who hadn't a right to 
penetrate into the charmed circle (which of course 
became the one room where every one wanted to 
go). There were, too, one or two members of 
W.'s cabinet always stationed near the doors to 
see that instructions were obeyed. 

I don't think the salon reserve exists any more 
— the blue ribbon certainly not. The rising flood 
of democracy and equality wouldn't submit to 
any such barrier. I remember quite well one 
beautiful woman standing for some time just the 
wrong side of the ribbon. She was so beautiful 
that every one remarked her, but she had no official 
rank or claim of any kind to enter the salon re- 
serve — no one knew her, though every one was 
asking who she was. She finally made her entree 
into the room on the arm of one of the members 
of the diplomatic corps, a young secretary, one of 
her friends, who could not refuse her what she 
wanted so much. She was certainly the hand- 
somest woman in the room with the exception of 
the actual Queen Alexandra, who was always the 
most beautiful and distinguished w^herever she was. 

The royalties didn't dance much. We had the 
regular quadrille d'honneur with the Princes and 
Princesses of Wales, Denmark, Sweden, Countess 
of Flanders, and others. None of the French 

[170] 



GAIETIES AT THE QUAI D'ORSAY 

princes came to the ball. There was a great crowd, 
but as the distinguished guests remained all the 
time in the salon reserve, they were not inconve- 
nienced by it. Just before supper, which was 
served at little round tables in a room opening out 
of the rotonde, the late King of Denmark, then 
Crown Prince, brother of the Princess of Wales, 
told me he would like to go up-stairs and see all the 
rooms; he had always heard that the Palais d'Orsay 
was a beautiful house. We made a difficult but 
stately progress through the rooms. The staircase 
was a pretty sight, covered with a red carpet, 
tapestries on the walls, and quantities of pretty 
women of all nationalities grouped on the steps. 
We walked through the rooms, where there were 
just as many people as there were down-stairs, an 
orchestra, supper-room, people dancing — just like 
another party going on. We halted a few minutes 
in my petit salon at the end of the long suite of 
rooms. It looked quite charming, with the blue 
brocade walls and quantities of pink roses standing 
in high glass vases. I suggested taking the eleva- 
tor to go down, but the prince preferred walking 
(so did I). It was even more difficult getting 
through the crowd down-stairs — we had the whole 
length of the house to cross. Several women stood 
on chairs as we passed along, in the hope of see- 

[171] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

ing one of the princesses, but they had wisely re- 
mained in the salon reserve, and were afraid to 
venture into the crowd. 

Supper was a serious preoccupation for the young 
secretaries of the ministry, who had much diffi- 
culty in keeping that room private. Long before 
the supper hour some enterprising spirits had 
discovered that the royalties were to sup in that 
room, and finding the secretaries quite inaccessible 
to any suggestions of "people who had a right to 
come in" — presidents of commissions and various 
other distinctions — had recourse to the servants, 
and various gold pieces circulated, which, how- 
ever, did not accomplish their object. The sec- 
retaries said that they had more trouble with 
the chamberlains of the various princes than with 
the princes themselves; they all wanted to sup in 
the private room, and were much more tenacious 
of having a good place, or the place they thought 
was due to them, than their royal masters. The 
supper was very gay — the Prince of Wales (the 
late King Edward) perfectly charming — talking 
to every one, remembering every one with that 
extraordinary gracious manner which made him 
friends in all classes. Immediately after supper 
the princes and distinguished strangers and W. 
departed. I remained about an hour longer and 

[ 172 1 



GAIETIES AT THE QUAI D'ORSAY 

went to have a look at the ballroom. It was still 
crowded, people dancing hard, and when finally 
about two o'clock I retreated to my own quarters, 
I went to sleep to the sound of waltzes and dance 
music played by the two orchestras. The revelry 
continued pretty well all through the night. 
Whenever I woke I heard strains of music. Sup- 
per went on till seven in the morning. Our faith- 
ful Kruft told us that there was absolutely nothing 
left on the tables, and they had almost to force the 
people out, telling them that an invitation to a 
ball did not usually extend to breakfast the next 
morning. 

There was a grand official closing of the exposi- 
tion at the end of November, with a distribution of 
prizes — the city still very full and very gay — escorts 
and uniforms in every direction — the Champs- 
Elysees brilliant with soldiers — equipages of all 
descriptions, and all the afternoon a crowd of peo- 
ple sitting under the trees, much interested in all 
that was going on, particularly when carriages 
would pass with people in foreign and striking cos- 
tumes. The Chinese always wore their costume; 
the big yellow birds of paradise became quite a 
feature of the afternoon defile. An Indian prin- 
cess too, dressed entirely in white — a soft clinging 
material, with a white veil, not over her face, and 

[173] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

held in place by a gold band going around the head 
— was always much admired. Every now and 
then there would be a great clatter of trotting- 
horses and jingling sabres, when an escort of dra- 
goons would pass, escorting some foreign prince to 
the Elysee to pay his formal visit to the marshal. 
Everybody looked gay — French people so dearly 
love a show — and it was amusing to see the inter- 
est every one took in the steady stream of people, 
from the fashionable woman driving to the Bois 
in her victoria to the workmen, who would stand 
in groups on the corners of the streets — some of 
them occasionally with a child on their shoulders. 
Frenchmen of all classes are good to children. On 
a Sunday or fete day, when whole families are com- 
ing in from a day at the Bois, one often sees a 
young husband wheeling a baby-carriage, or carry- 
ing a baby in his arms to let the poor mother have 
a rest. It was curious at the end of the exposition 
to see how quickly everything was removed (many 
things had been sold); and in a few days the 
Champ de Mars took again the same aspect it had 
at the beginning of the month of May — heavy 
carts and camions everywhere, oceans of mud, 
lines of black holes where trees and poles had been 
planted, and the same groups of small shivering 
Southerners, all huddled together, wrapped in 

[174] 



GAIETIES AT THE QUAI D'ORSAY 

wonderful cloaks and blankets, quite paralysed 
with cold. I don't know if the exposition was a 
financial success — I should think probably not. 
A great deal of money came into France (but 
the French spent enormously in their preparations) 
but the moral effect was certainly good — all the 
world flocked to Paris. Cabs and river steamers 
did a flourishing business, as did all the restaurants 
and cafes in the suburbs. St. Cloud, Meudon, 
Versailles, Robinson, were crowded every night 
with people who were thirsting for air and food 
after long hot days in the dust and struggles of the 
exposition. We dined there once or twice, but 
it was certainly neither pleasant nor comfortable 
— even in the most expensive restaurants. They 
were all overcrowded, very bad service, badly 
lighted, and generally bad food. There were vari- 
ous national repasts — Russian, Italian, etc. — but 
I never participated in any of those, except once 
at the American restaurant, where I had a very 
good breakfast one morning, with delicious waffles 
made by a negro cook. I was rather glad when the 
exhibition was over. One had a feeling that one 
ought to see as much as possible, and there were 
some beautiful things, but it was most fatiguing 
struggling through the crowd, and we invariably 
lost the carriage and found ourselves at the wrong 

[175] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

entrance, and had to wait hours for a cab. Tiffany- 
had a great success with the French. Many of my 
friends bought souvenirs of the exposition from 
him. His work was very original, fanciful, and 
quite different from the rather stiff, heavy, classic 
silver that one sees in this country. 



[176] 



IX 

M. WADDINGTON AS PRIME MINISTER 

THERE had been a respite, a sort of armed 
truce, in political circles as long as the expo- 
sition lasted, but when the Chambers met again in 
November, it was evident that things were not 
going smoothly. The Republicans and Radicals 
were dissatisfied. Every day there were speeches 
and insinuations against the marshal and his gov- 
ernment, and one felt that a crisis was impending. 
There were not loaves and fishes enough for the 
whole Radical party. If one listened to them it 
would seem as if every prefet and every general 
were conspiring against the Republic. There were 
long consultations in W.'s cabinet, and I went often 
to our house in the rue Dumont d'Urville to see if 
everything was in order there, as I quite expected 
to be back there for Christmas. A climax was 
reached when the marshal was asked to sign the 
deposition of some of the generals. He absolutely 
refused — the ministers persisted in their demands. 
There was not much discussion, the marshal's 

[177] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

mind was made up, and on the 30th of January, 
1879, he announced in the Conseil des Ministres 
his irrevocable decision, and handed his ministers 
his letter of resignation. 

We had a melancholy breakfast — W., Count de 
P., and I — the last day of the marshal's presi- 
dency. W. was very blue, was quite sure the mar- 
shal would resign, and foresaw all sorts of compli- 
cations both at home and abroad. The day was 
gloomy too, grey and cold, even the big rooms of 
the ministry were dark. As soon as they had 
started for Versailles, I took baby and went to 
mother's. As I went over the bridge I wondered 
how many more times I should cross it, and whether 
the end of the week would see me settled again in 
my own house. We drove about and had tea 
together, and I got back to the Quai d'Orsay 
about six o'clock. Neither W. nor Count de P. 
had got back from Versailles, but there were two 
telegrams — the first one to say that the marshal 
had resigned, the second one that Grevy was 
named in his place, with a large majority. 

W. was rather depressed when he came home — 
he had always a great sympathy and respect for 
the marshal, and was very sorry to see him go, 
— thought his departure would complicate for- 
eign affairs. As long as the marshal was at the 

[178] 




M. Jules Grevy, reading Marshal MacMabon's letter of resignation lo the 

Chamber of Deputies. 

From L'niual ration, Februarys. 1879. 



WADDINGTON AS PRIME MINISTER 

Elysee, foreign governments were not afraid of 
coups d'etat or revolutions. He was also sorry 
that Dufaure would not remain, but he was an old 
man, had had enough of political life and party 
struggles — left the field to younger men. The 
marshal's letter was communicated at once to the 
Parliament, and the houses met in the afternoon. 
There was a short session to hear the marshal's 
letter read (by Grevy in the Chamber of Deputies) 
and the two houses, Senate and Chamber of Depu- 
ties, were convoked for a later hour of the same 
afternoon. There was not much excitement, two 
or three names were pronounced, but every one 
felt sure that Grevy would be the man. He was 
nominated by a large majority, and the Republi- 
cans were jubilant — thought the Republic was at 
last established on a firm and proper basis. Grevy 
was perfectly calm and self-possessed — did not 
show much enthusiasm. He must have felt quite 
sure from the first moment that he would be 
named. His first visitor was the marshal, who 
wished him all possible success in his new mission, 
and, if Grevy was pleased to be the President of 
the Republic, the marshal was even more pleased 
not to be, and to take up his private life again. 

There were many speculations as to who would 
be charged by Grevy to form his first cabinet — 

[179] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

and almost permanent meetings in all the groups 
of the Left. W.'s friends all said he would cer- 
tainly remain at the Foreign Office, but that de- 
pended naturally upon the choice of the premier. 
If he were taken from the more advanced ranks of 
the Left, W. could not possibly stay. We were not 
long in suspense. W. had one or two interviews 
with Grevy, which resulted in his remaining at the 
Foreign Office, but as prime minister. W. hesi- 
tated at first, felt that it would not be an easy task 
to keep all those very conflicting elements together. 
There were four Protestants in the ministry, W., 
Leon Say, de Freycinet, and Le Royer. Jules 
Ferry, who took the Ministry of Public Instruc- 
tion, a very clever man, was practically a free- 
thinker, and the Parliament was decidedly more 
advanced. The last elections had given a strong 
Republican majority to the Senate. He consulted 
with his brother, Richard Waddington, then a 
deputy, afterward a senator, president of the 
Chamber of Commerce of Rouen, and some of his 
friends, and finally decided to accept the very hon- 
ourable, but very onerous position, and remained 
at the Foreign Affairs with Grevy, as prime 
minister. 

If I had seen little of him before, I saw nothing 
of him now, as his work was exactly doubled. We 

[180] 



WADDINGTON AS PRIME MINISTER 

did breakfast together, but it was a most irregu- 
lar meal — sometimes at twelve o'clock, sometimes 
at one-thirty, and very rarely alone. We always 
dined out or had people dining with us, so that 
family life became a dream of the past. We very 
rarely went together when we dined out. W. was 
always late — his coupe waited hours in the court. 
I had my carriage and went alone. After eight or 
ten days of irregular meals at impossible hours 
(we often dined at nine-thirty) I said to Count de 
P., W.'s chef de cabinet: "Can't you arrange to 
have business over a little earlier? It is awful to 
dine so late and to wait so long," to which he re- 
plied: "Ah, madame, no one can be more desirous 
than I to change that order of things, for when the 
minister dines at nine-thirty, the chef de cabinet 
gets his dinner at ten-thirty." We did manage to 
get rather more satisfactory hours after a little 
while, but it was always difficult to extract W. 
from his work if it were anything important. 
He became absorbed, and absolutely unconscious 
of time. 

The new President, Grevy, installed himself at 
once at the Elysee with his wife and daughter. 
There was much speculation about Madame 
Grevy — no one had ever seen her — she was abso- 
lutely unknown. When Grevy was president of 

[181] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

the National iVssembly, he gave very pleasant 
men's dinners, where Madame Grevy never ap- 
peared. Every one (of all opinions) was delighted 
to go to him, and the talk was most brilliant and 
interesting. Grevy was a perfect host, very cul- 
tivated, with a marvellous memory — quoting pages 
of the classics, French, and Latin. 

Madame Grevy was always spoken of as a quiet, 
unpretending person — occupied with domestic du- 
ties, who hated society and never went anywhere 
— in fact, no one ever heard her name mentioned. 
A great many people didn't know that Grevy had 
a wife. AVhen her husband became President of 
the Republic, there was much discussion as to 
Madame Grevy's social status in the official world. 
I don't think Grevy wanted her to appear nor to 
take any part in the new life, and she certainly 
didn't want to. Nothing in her former life had 
prepared her for such a change, and it was always 
an effort for her, but both were overruled by their 
friends, who thought a woman was a necessary part 
of the position. It was some little time before 
they were settled at the Elysee. W. asked Grevy 
once or twice when Madame Waddington might 
call upon his wife — and he answered that as soon 
as they were quite installed I should receive a no- 
tice. One day a communication arrived from the 

[1821 



WADDINGTON AS PRIME MINISTER 

Elysee, saying that Madame Grevy would receive 
the diplomatic corps and the ministers' wives on 
a fixed day at five o'clock. The message was sent 
on to the diplomatic corps, and when I arrived 
on the appointed day (early, as I wanted to see the 
people come in, and also thought I must present 
the foreign ladies) there were already several car- 
riages in the court. 

The Elysee looked just as it did in the marshal's 
time — plenty of servants in gala liveries — two or 
three huissiers who knew everybody — palms, flow- 
ers, everywhere. The traditions of the palace are 
carried on from one President to another, and a 
permanent staff of servants remains. We found 
Madame Grevy with her daughter and one or two 
ladies, wives, I suppose, of the secretaries, seated in 
the well-known drawing-room with the beautiful 
tapestries — Madame Grevy in a large gold arm- 
chair at the end of the room — a row of gilt arm- 
chairs on each side of hers — mademoiselle standing 
behind her mother. A huissier announced every 
one distinctly, but the names and titles said noth- 
ing to Madame Grevy. She was tall, middle-aged, 
handsomely dressed, and visibly nervous — made a 
great many gestures when she talked. It was 
amusing to see all the people arrive. I had noth- 
ing to do — there were no introductions — every one 

[183] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

was announced, and they all walked straight up to 
Madame Grevy, who was very polite, got up for 
every one, men and women. It was rather an 
imposing circle that gathered around her — Princess 
Hohenlohe, German ambassadress, sat on one side 
of her — Marquise Molins, Spanish ambassadress, on 
the other. There were not many men — Lord Ly- 
ons, as doyen of the diplomatic corps, the nonce, 
and a good many representatives of the South 
American Republics. Madame Grevy was per- 
fectly bewildered, and did try to talk to the ladies 
next to her, but it was an intimidating function for 
any one, and she had no one to help her, as they 
were all quite new to the work. It was obviously 
an immense relief to her when some lady of the 
official world came in, whom she had known be- 
fore. The two ladies plunged at once into a very 
animated conversation about their children, hus- 
bands, and various domestic matters — a perfectly 
natural conversation, but not interesting to the 
foreign ladies. 

We didn't make a very long visit — it was merely 
a matter of form. Lord Lyons came out with me, 
and we had quite a talk while I was waiting for 
my carriage in the anteroom. He was so sensible 
always in his intercourse with the official world, 
quite realised that the position was difficult and 

[1841 



WADDINGTON AS PRIME MINISTER 

trying for Madame Grevy — it would have been 
for any one thrown at once without any preparation 
into such perfectly different surroundings. He had 
a certain experience of republics and republican 
manners, as he had been some years in Washington 
as British minister, and had often seen wives of 
American statesmen and ministers, fresh from the 
far West, beginning their career in Washington, 
quite bewildered by the novelty of everything and 
utterly ignorant of all questions of etiquette — only 
he said the American women were far more adapt- 
able than either French or English — or than any 
others in the world, in fact. He also said that 
day, and I have heard him repeat it once or twice 
since, that he had never met a stupid American 
woman. . . . 

I have always thought it was unnecessary to in- 
sist upon Madame Grevy's presence at the Elysee. 
It is very difficult for any woman, no longer very 
young, to begin an entirely new life in a perfectly 
different milieu, and certainly more difficult for 
a Frenchwoman of the bourgeoisie than any 
other. They live in such a narrow circle, their 
lives are so cramped and uninteresting — they know 
so little of society and foreign ways and manners 
that they must be often uncomfortable and make 
mistakes. It is very different for a man. All the 

[185] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

small questions of dress and manners, etc., don't 
exist for him. One man in a dress coat and white 
cravat looks very like another, and men of all con- 
ditions are polite to a lady. When a man is 
intelligent, no one notices whether his coat and 
waist-coat are too wide or too short and whether 
his boots are clumsy. 

Madame Grevy never looked happy at the 
Elysee. They had a big dinner every Thursday, 
with a reception afterward, and she looked so 
tired when she was sitting on the sofa, in the dip- 
lomatic salon, making conversation for the for- 
eigners and people of all kinds who came to their 
receptions, that one felt really sorry for her. 
Grevy was always a striking personality. lie had 
a fine head, a quiet, dignified manner, and looked 
very well when he stood at the door receiving his 
guests. I don't think he cared very much about 
foreign affairs — he was essentially French — had 
never lived abroad or known any foreigners. He 
was too intelligent not to understand that a coun- 
try must have foreign relations, and that France 
must take her place again as a great power, but 
home politics interested him much more than any- 
thing else. He was a charming talker — every one 
wanted to talk to him, or rather to listen to him. 
The evenings were pleasant enough in the diplo- 

[18G] 



WADDINGTON AS PRIME MINISTER 

matic salon. It was interesting to see the attitude 
of the different diplomatists. All were correct, 
but most of them were visibly antagonistic to 
the Republic and the Republicans (which they 
considered much accentuee since the nomination 
of Grevy — the women rather more so than the 
men). One felt, if one didn't hear, the criticisms 
on the dress, deportment, and general style of the 
Republican ladies. 

I didn't quite understand their view of the sit- 
uation. They were all delighted to come to Paris, 
and knew perfectly well the state of things, what 
an abyss existed between all the Conservative 
party, Royalists and Bonapartists, and the Repub- 
lican, but the absence of a court didn't make any 
difference in their position. They w^ent to all the 
entertainments given in the Faubourg St. Germain, 
and all the societe came to theirs. With very 
few exceptions they did only what was necessary 
in the way of intercourse with the official world. 
I think they made a mistake, both for them- 
selves and their governments. France was passing 
through an entirely new phase; everything was 
changing, many young intelligent men were coming 
to the front, and there were interesting and able 
discussions in the Chambers, and in the salons of 
the Republican ministers and deputies. I dare say 

[187] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

the new theories of Hberty and equahty were not 
sympathetic to the trained representatives of 
courts, but the world was advancing, democracy 
was in the air, and one would have thought it 
would have interested foreigners to follow the 
movement and to judge for themselves whether 
the young Republic had any chance of life. One 
can hardly imagine a public man not wishing to 
hear all sides of a question, but I think, certainly 
in the beginning, there was such a deep-rooted dis- 
trust and dislike to the Republic, that it was im- 
possible to see things fairly. I don't know that it 
mattered very much. In these days of rapid 
travelling and telephone, an ambassador's role is 
much less important than in the old days when an 
ambassador with his numerous suite of secretaries 
and servants, travelling by post, would be days on 
the road before reaching his destination, and when 
all sorts of things might happen, kingdoms and 
dynasties be overthrown in the interval. Now all 
the great measures and negotiations are discussed 
and settled in the various chancelleries — the am- 
bassador merely transmits his instructions. 

I think the women were rather more uncom- 
promising than the men. One day in my drawing- 
room there was a lively political discussion going 
on, and one heard all the well-known phrases "le 

[188] 



WADDINGTON AS PRIME MINISTER 

gouvernement infect," "no gentleman could serve 
the Republic," etc. I wasn't paying much atten- 
tion — never did; I had become accustomed to that 
style of conversation, and knew exactly what they 
were all going to say, when I heard one of my 
friends, an American-born, married to a Frenchman 
of very good old family, make the following state- 
ment: "Toute la canaille est Republicaine." That 
was really too much, and I answered: "Vous etes 
bien indulgente pour I'Empire." When one thinks 
of the unscrupulous (not to use a stronger term) 
and needy adventurers, who made the Coup d'Etat 
and played a great part in the court of the Second 
Empire, it was really a little startling to be told 
that the Republicans enjoyed the monopoly of 
the canaille. However, I suppose nothing is so 
useless as a political discussion (except perhaps a 
religious one) . No one ever converts any one else. 
I have always heard it said that the best political 
speech never changed a vote. 

The first person who entertained Grevy was 
Prince Hohenlohe, the German ambassador. They 
had a brilliant reception, rooms crowded, all the 
official world and a fair contingent from the Fau- 
bourg St. Germain. The President brought his 
daughter with him (Madame Grevy never accepted 
any invitations) and they walked through the 

[189] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

rooms arm-in-arm, mademoiselle declining the arm 
of Count Wesdehlen, first secretary of the German 
Embassy. 

However, she was finally prevailed upon to 
abandon the paternal support, and then Wesdeh- 
len installed her in a small salon where Mollard, 
Introducteur des Ambassadeurs, took charge of 
her and introduced a great many men to her. No 
woman would ask to be introduced to an unmar- 
ried woman, and that of course made her position 
diflScult. The few ladies she had already seen at 
the Ely see came up to speak to her, but didn't 
stay near her, so she was really receiving almost 
alone with Mollard. Grevy was in another room, 
tres entoure, as he always was. The diplomatic 
corps did not spare their criticisms. Madame 
Grevy received every Saturday in the afternoon, 
and I went often — not every time. It was a funny 
collection of people, some queerly dressed women 
and one or two men in dress coats and white cra- 
vats, — always a sprinkling of diplomatists. Prince 
Orloff was often there, and if anybody could have 
made that stiff, shy semicircle of women comfort- 
able, he would have done it, with his extraordinary 
ease of manner and great habit of the world. Gam- 
betta was installed in the course of the month at 
the Palais Bourbon, next to us. It was brilliantly 

[190] 



WADDINGTON AS PRIME MINISTER 

lighted every night, and my chef told me one of his 
friends, an excellent cook, was engaged, and that 
there would be a great many dinners. The Palais 
Bourbon had seen great entertainments in former 
days, when the famous Due de Morny was Presi- 
dent de la Chambre des Deputes. Under Na- 
poleon III his entertainments were famous. The 
whole world, fashionable, political, and diplomatic 
thronged his salons, and invitations were eagerly 
sought for not only by the French people, but by 
the many foreigners who passed through Paris at 
that time. Gambetta must have been a curious 
contrast to the Due de Morny. 

We went to see a first function at the Elysee 
some time in February, two Cardinals were to be 
named and Grevy was to deliver the birettas. 
Mollard asked to see me one morning, telling me 
that the two ablegates with their suite had arrived, 
and wished to pay their respects to me. One of 
them was Monsignor Cataldi, whom we had known 
well in Rome when we were living there. He was 
a friend of my brother (General Rufus King, the 
last United States minister to the Vatican under 
Pia Nono), and came often to the house. He was 
much excited when he found out that Madame 
Waddington was the Mary King he had known so 
well in Rome. He had with him an English priest, 

[191] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

whose name, curiously enough, was Enghsh. They 
appeared about tea-time and were quite charming, 
Cataldi just as fat and cheerful and talkative as I 
remembered him in the old days in Rome. We 
plunged at once into all sorts of memories of old 
times — the good old times when Rome was small 
and black and interesting — something quite apart 
and different from any other place in the •\vorld. 
Monsignor English was much younger and more 
reserved, the Anglo-Saxon type — a contrast to the 
exuberant Southerners. W^e asked them to dine 
the next night and w^ere able to get a few interest- 
ing people to meet them, Comte et Comtesse de 
Sartiges, and one or two deputies — bien-pensants. 
Sartiges was formerly French ambassador in Rome 
to the Vatican, and a very clever diplomatist. He 
was very autocratic, did exactly what he liked. I 
remember quite well some of his small dances at 
the embassy. The invitations were from ten to 
tw^elve, and at twelve precisely the musicians 
stopped playing — no matter who was dancing, the 
ball was over. His wife was an American, from 
Boston, Miss Thorndike, who always retained the 
simple, natural manner of the well-born American. 
Their son, the Vicomte de Sartiges, has followed 
in his father's footsteps, and is one of the most 
serious and intelhgent of the young diplomatists. 

[1921 



^YADDIXGTOX AS PRIME MINISTER 

Cataldi made himself very agreeable, spoke 
French perfectly well, though with a strong ItaHan 
accent. He confided to me after dinner that he 
would have Uked to see some of the more advanced 
political men, instead of the very conservative 
CathoHcs we had in\'ited to meet them. "I know 
what these gentlemen think; I would like to talk 
to some of the others, those who think 'le clerical- 
ism c'est I'ennemi,' and who are firmly convinced 
that the soutane serves as a cloak for all sorts of 
underhand and unpatriotic dealings; I can only 
see them abroad, never in Rome." He would 
have talked to them quite easily. Italians have 
so much natural tact, in discussing difficult ques- 
tions, never irritate people unnecessarily. 

W. enjoyed his evening. He had never been in 
Rome, nor known many Romans, and it amused 
him to see how skilfully Cataldi (who was a de- 
voted admirer of Leo XIII) avoided all cross-cur- 
rents and difficult questions, saying only what he 
intended to say, and appreciating all that was said 
to him. 

Henrietta and I were ver^' anxious to see the 
ceremony at the Elysee, and asked MoUard, In- 
troducteur des Ambassadeurs and chef du Proto- 
cole — a most important man on all official occa- 
sions, if he couldn't put us somewhere in a corner, 

[193] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

where we could see, without taking any part. W. 
was of no use to us, as he went officially, in uni- 
form. Madame Grevy was very amiable, and sent 
us an invitation to breakfast. We found a small 
party assembled in the tapestry salon when we 
arrived at the Elysee — the President with all his 
household, civil and military, Madame and Made- 
moiselle Grevy, three or four ladies, wives of the 
aides-de-camp and secretaries, also several promi- 
nent ecclesiastics, among them Monsignor Capel, 
an English priest, a very handsome and attractive 
man, whom we had known well in Rome. He was 
supposed to have made more women converts to 
Catholicism than any man of his time; I can quite 
understand his influence with women. There was 
something very natural and earnest about him — no 
pose. I had not seen him since I had married and 
was very pleased when I recognised him. He told 
me he had never seen W^ — was most anxious to 
make his acquaintance. 

WTiile we were talking, W. came in, looking very 
warm and uncomfortable, wearing his stiff, gold- 
embroidered uniform, which changed him very 
much. I introduced Capel to him at once. They 
had quite a talk before the Archbishops and able- 
gates arrived. The two future Cardinals, Mon- 
seigneur Pie, Archbishop of Poitiers, and Mon- 

[194] 



WADDINGTON AS PRIME MINISTER 

seigneur Desprey, Archbishop of Toulouse, were 
well known in the Catholic world. The Pope's 
choice was generally approved. They were treated 
with all due ceremony, as befitted princes of the 
church. One of the Ely see carriages (always very 
well turned out), with an escort of cavalry, went to 
fetch them, and they looked very stately and im- 
posing in their robes when they came into the room 
where we were waiting. They were very different, 
Monseigneur Pie tall, thin, cold, arrogant, — one 
felt it was a trial for him to receive his Cardinal's 
hat from the hands of a Republican President. 
Monseigneur Desprey had a kind good expression. 
I don't think he liked it much either, but he put a 
better face on the matter. 

Both Cardinals said exactly what one imagined 
they would say — that the traditional fidelity of 
France to the church should be supported and en- 
couraged in every way in these troubled days of 
indifference to religion, etc. One felt all the time 
the strong antagonism of the church to the Re- 
public. Grevy answered extremely well, speaking 
with much dignity and simplicity, and assuring 
the Cardinals that they could always count upon 
the constitutional authority of the head of the 
state, in favour of the rights of the church. I 
was quite pleased to see again the red coats and 

[105] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

high boots of the gardes nobles. It is a very- 
showy, dashing uniform. The two young men 
were good-looking and wore it very well. I asked 
to have them presented to me, and we had a long 
talk over old days in Rome when the Pope went 
out every day to the different villas, and promen- 
ades, and always with an escort of gardes nobles. 
I invited them to our reception two or three nights 
afterward, and they seemed to enjoy themselves. 
They were, of course, delighted with their short 
stay in Paris, and I think a little surprised at the 
party at the Foreign Office under a Republican 
regime. I don't know if they expected to find the 
rooms filled with gentlemen in the traditional red 
Garibaldian shirt — and ladies in corresponding 
simplicity of attire. 

We saw a great many English at the Quai 
d'Orsay. Queen Victoria stayed one or two nights 
at the British Embassy, passing through Paris on 
her way South. She sent for W., who had never 
seen her since his undergraduate days at Cam- 
bridge. He found her quite charming, very easy, 
interested in everything. She began the conver- 
sation in French — (he was announced with all due 
ceremony as Monsieur le Ministre des Affaires 
Etrangeres) and W^. said she spoke it remarkably 
well, — then, with her beautiful smile which light- 

[196] 




Her Majesty Queen Victoria, about 1879. 
From a photograph by Chancellor, Duhliu.. 



WADDINGTON AS PRIME MINISTER 

ened up her whole face: "I think I can speak En- 
gHsh with a Cambridge scholar." She was much 
interested in his beginnings in England at Rugby 
and Cambridge — and was evidently astonished, 
though she had too much tact to show it, that he 
had chosen to make his life and career in France 
instead of accepting the proposition made to him 
by his cousin Waddington, then Dean of Durham, 
to remain in England and continue his classic and 
literary studies under his guidance. When the in- 
terview was over he found the Queen's faithful 
Scotch retainer, John Brown, who always accom- 
panied her everywhere, waiting outside the door, 
evidently hoping to see the minister. He spoke a 
few words with him, as a countryman — W. being 
half Scotch — his mother was born Chisholm. 
They shook hands and John Brown begged him 
to come to Scotland, where he would receive a 
hearty welcome. W. was very pleased with his 
reception by the Queen. Lord Lyons told him 
afterward that she had been very anxious to see 
him; she told him later, in speaking of the inter- 
view, that it was very difficult to realise that she 
was speaking to a French minister — everything 
about him was so absolutely English, figure, 
colouring, and speech. 

Many old school and college experiences were 
[197] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

evoked that year by the various English who 
passed through Paris. One night at a big dinner 
at the British Embassy I was sitting next to the 
Prince of Wales (late King Edward). He said to 
me: "There is an old friend of your husband's here 
to-night, who will be so glad to see him again. 
They haven't met since he was his fag at Rugby." 
After dinner he was introduced to me — Admiral 
Glynn — a charming man, said his last recollection 
of W. was making his toast for him and getting a 
good cuff when the toast fell into the fire and got 
burnt. The two men talked together for some 
time in the smoking-room, recalling all sorts of 
schoolboy exploits. Another school friend was 
Sir Francis x\dams, first secretary and "coun- 
sellor" at the British Embassy. When the am- 
bassador took his holiday, Adams replaced him, 
and had the rank and title of minister plenipoten- 
tiary. He came every Wednesday, the diplomatic 
reception day, to the Quai d'Orsay to talk business. 
As long as a secretary or a huissier was in the room, 
they spoke to each other most correctly in French ; 
as soon as they were alone, relapsed into easy and 
colloquial English. We were very fond of Adams 
— saw a great deal of him not only in Paris, but 
when we first lived in London at the embassy. He 
died suddenly in Switzerland, and W. missed him 

[198] 



WADDINGTON AS PRIME MINISTER 

very much. He was very intelligent, a keen ob- 
server, had been all over the world, and his knowl- 
edge and appreciation of foreign countries and ways 
was often very useful to W. 

We continued our dinners and receptions, which 
always interested me, we saw so many people of 
all kinds. One dinner was for Prince Alexander 
of Battenberg, just as he was starting to take 
possession of the new principality of Bulgaria. He 
was one of the handsomest men I have ever seen, 
— tall, young, strong. He seemed the type of the 
dashing young chief who would inspire confidence 
in a new independent state. He didn't speak of his 
future with much enthusiasm. I wonder if a pre- 
sentiment was even then overclouding what seemed 
a brilliant beginning! He talked a great deal at 
dinner. He was just back from Rome, and full of 
its charm, which at once made a bond of sympathy 
between us. Report said he had left his heart there 
with a young Roman. He certainly spoke of the 
happy days with a shade of melancholy. I sug- 
gested that he ought to marry, that would make his 
*' exile," as he called it, easier to bear. ** Ah, yes, if 
one could choose." Then after a pause, with an 
almost boyish petulance: "They want me to marry 
Princess X., but I don't want to." "Is she pretty, 
will she help you in your new country.'^" "I 

[199] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

don't know; I don't care; I have never seen 
her." 

Poor fellow, he had a wretched experience. Some 
of the "exiles" were less interesting. A lady asked 
to see me one day, to enlist my sympathies for her 
brother and plead his cause with the minister. He 
had been named to a post which he couldn't really 
accept. I rather demurred, telling her messenger, 
one of the secretaries of the Foreign Office, that it 
was quite useless, her asking me to interfere. W. 
was not very likely to consult me in his choice of 
nominations — and in fact the small appointments, 
secretaries, were generally prepared in the Chan- 
cellerie and followed the usual routine of regular 
promotion. An ambassador, of course, was dif- 
ferent, and was sometimes taken quite outside the 
carriere. The lady persisted and appeared one 
morning — a pretty, well-dressed femme du monde 
whom I had often met without making her ac- 
quaintance. She plunged at once into her sub- 
ject — her brother's delicate health, accustomed to 
all the comforts and what the books call "higher 
civilisation" of Europe, able to do good service in 
courts and society, as he knew everybody. It was 
a pity to send him to such an out-of-the-way place, 
with an awful climate, — any consul's clerk would 
do as well. I supposed he had been named to 

[200] 



WADDINGTON AS PRIME MINISTER 

Caracas, South America, or some other remote 
and unhealthy part of the globe, but when she 
stopped for a moment, I discovered that the young 
man was named to Washington. I was really sur- 
prised, didn't know what to say at once, when the 
absurdity of the thing struck me and I answered 
that Washington was far, perhaps across the 
ocean, but there were compensations — but she 
took up her argument again, such an impossible 
place, everything so primitive, I really think she 
thought the youth was going to an Indian settle- 
ment, all squaws and wigwams and tomahawks. I 
declined any interference with the minister's ap- 
pointments, assuring her I had no influence what- 
ever, and she took leave of me very icily. I heard 
the sequel afterward — the young man refused 
the post as quite unworthy of him. There were 
several others ready and pleased to take it, and 
M. de X. was put en disponibilite. 

We saw too that year for the first time the 
Grand Duke Alexander of Russia (later Emperor 
Alexander III, whose coronation we went to at 
Moscow) and the Grande Duchesse Marie. Prince 
Orloff arranged the interview, as he was very 
anxious that the Grand Duke should have some 
talk with W. They were in Paris for three or 
four days, staying at the Hotel Bristol, where 

[2011 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

they received us. He was a tall, handsome man, 
with a blond beard and blue eyes, quite the 
Northern type. She recalled her sister (Queen 
Alexandra), not quite so tall, but with the same 
gracious manner and beautiful eyes. The Grand 
Duke talked a great deal, principally politics, to W. 
He expressed himself very doubtfully about the 
stability of the Republic, and was evidently wor- 
ried over the possibility of a general amnesty, **a 
very dangerous measure which no government 
should sanction." W. assured him there would be 
no general amnesty, but he seemed sceptical, re- 
peated several times: "Soyez stable, soyez ferme." 
The Grande Duchesse talked to me about Paris, 
the streets were so gay, the shops so tempting, 
and all the people so smiling and happy. I sup- 
pose the contrast struck her, coming from Russia 
where the people look sad and listless. I was much 
impressed with their sad, repressed look when we 
were in Russia for the coronation — one never heard 
people laugh or sing in the streets — and yet we 
were there at a time of great national rejoicings, 
amusements of all kinds provided for the people. 
Their national melodies, volklieder (songs of the 
people), have always a strain of sadness running 
through them. Our conversation was in French, 
which both spoke very well. 

[ 202 ] 



WADDINGTON AS PRIME MINISTER 

The winter months went by quickly enough 
with periodical alarms in the political world when 
some new measure was discussed which aroused 
everybody's passions and satisfied neither side. I 
made weekly visits to my own house, which was 
never dismantled, as I always felt our stay at the 
Quai d'Orsay would not last much longer. One of 
our colleagues, Madame Leon Say, an intelligent, 
charming woman, took matters more philosophi- 
cally than I did. Her husband had been in and 
out of office so often that she was quite indifferent 
to sudden changes of residence. They too kept 
their house open and she said she had always a 
terrine de crise ready in her larders. 

The diplomatic appointments, the embassies 
particularly, were a difficulty. Admiral Pothnau 
went to London. He was a very gallant officer and 
had served with the English in the Crimea — had 
the order of the Bath, and exactly that stand-off, 
pompous manner which suits English people. 
General Chanzy went to St. Petersburg. It has 
been the tradition almost always to send a soldier 
to Russia. There is so little intercourse between 
the Russian Emperor and any foreigner, even an 
ambassador, that an ordinary diplomatist, no mat- 
ter how intelligent or experienced he might be, 
would have very few opportunities to talk to the 

[203] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

Emperor; whereas an oflBcer, with the various re- 
views and manoeuvres that are always going on in 
Russia, would surely approach him more easily. 
I was so struck when we were in Russia with the 
immense distance that separated the princes from 
the ordinary mortals. They seem like demigods 
on a different plane (in Russia I mean; of course 
when they come to Paris their godlike attributes 
disappear, unfortunately for themselves). 

Chanzy was very happy in Russia, where he was 
extremely well received. He dined with us one 
night, when he was at home on leave, and was 
most enthusiastic about everything in Russia — 
their finances, their army — the women of all classes 
so intelligent, so patriotic. He was evidently 
quite sous le charme. When he had gone, M. 
Desprey, then Directeur de la Politique, a very 
clever man, who had seen many ambassadors come 
and go from all the capitals of Europe, said: 

*'It is curious how all the ambassadors who go 
to Russia have that same impression. I have 
never known it to fail. It is the Russian policy to 
be delightful to the ambassadors — make life very 
easy for them — show them all that is brilliant and 
interesting — open all doors (society, etc.) and keep 
all sordid and ugly ciuestions in the background." 

St. Vallier remained at Berlin. His name had 
[204] 



WADDINGTON AS PRIME MINISTER 

been mentioned for Foreign Minister when Duf aure 
was making his cabinet, but he hadn't the health 
for it — and I think preferred being in Berhn. He 
knew Germany well and had a good many friends 
in Berlin. 

W. of course had a great many men's dinners, 
from which I was excluded. I dined often with 
some of my friends, not of the official world, and I 
used to ask myself sometimes if the Quai d'Orsay 
and these houses could be in the same country. It 
was an entirely different world, every point of view 
different, not only politics — that one would ex- 
pect, as the whole of society was anti-Republican, 
Royalist, or Bonapartist — but every question dis- 
cussed wore a different aspect. Once or twice 
there was a question of Louis XIV and what he 
would have done in certain cases, — the religious 
question always a passionate one. That of course 
I never discussed, being a Protestant, and knowing 
quite well that the real fervent Catholics think 
Protestants have no religion. 

I was out driving with a friend one morning in 
Lent (Holy Week), Thursday I think — and said 
I could not be out late, as I must go to church — 
perhaps she would drop me at the Protestant 
Chapel in the Avenue de la Grand Armee. She 
was so absolutely astonished that it was almost 

[ 205 ] 



IrffWI aJttl7r»Wr*l!>Ai 1^Wg^1TaaTrii;.niiaet'!lg?rr«»~«Ba» 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

funny, though I was half angry too. "You are 
going to church on Holy Thursday. I didn't 
know Protestants ever kept Lent, or Holy Week or 
any saint's day." "Don't you think we ever go to 
church.^" "Oh, yes, to a conference or sermon on 
Sundays, but you are not pratiquant like us." 
I was reall}' put out, and tried another day, when 
she was sitting with me, to show her our prayer- 
book, and explained that the Creed and the Lord's 
Prayer, to say nothing of various other prayers, 
were just the same as in her livrc de Messe, but 
I didn't make any impression upon her — her only 
remark being, "I suppose you do believe in God," 
— yet she was a clever, well-educated woman — 
knew her French history well, and must have 
known what a part the French Protestants played 
at one time in France, when many of the great 
nobles were Protestants. 

Years afterward, with the same friend, we were 
discussing the proposed marriage of the Duke of 
Clarence, eldest son of the late King Edward VH 
of England, who wanted very much to marry Prin- 
cess Helene d'Orleans, daughter of the Comte de 
Paris, now Duchesse d'Aosta. It was impossible 
for the English prince, heir to the throne, to marry 
a Catholic princess — it seemed equally impossible 
for the French princess to become a Protestant. 

[ 206 ] 



WADDINGTON AS PRIME MINISTER 

The Pope was consulted and very strong influence 
brought to bear on the question, but the Cathohc 
Church was firm. We were in London at the time, 
and of course heard the question much discussed. 
It was an interesting case, as the two young peo- 
ple were much in love with each other. I said 
to my friend: 

"If I were in the place of the Princess Helene 
I should make myself a Protestant. It is a big 
bait for the daughter of an exiled prince to be 
Queen of England." 

"But it couldn't be; no Catholic could change 
her religion or make herself Protestant." 

"Yet there is a precedent in your history. 
Your King Henri IV of beloved memory, a Prot- 
estant, didn't hesitate to make himself a Catholic 
to be King of France." 

"Ah, but that is quite different." 

"For you perhaps, chere amie, but not for us." 

However, the poor young prince died suddenly 
of pneumonia, so the sacrifice would have been in 
vain. 

All the autumn of '79 was very agitated. We 
were obliged to curtail our stay at Bourneville, our 
country home. Even though the Chambers were 
not sitting, every description of political intrigue 
was going on. Every day W. had an immense 

[207] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

courrier and every second day a secretary came 
down from the Quai d'Orsay with despatches and 
papers to sign. Telegrams came all day long. W. 
had one or two shooting breakfasts and the long 
tramps in the woods rested him. The guests were 
generally the notabilities of the small towns and 
villages of his circumscription, — mayors, farmers, 
and small landowners. They all talked politics 
and W. was surprised to see how in this quiet ag- 
ricultural district the fever of democracy had 
mounted. Usually the well-to-do farmer is very 
conservative, looks askance at the very advanced 
opinions of the young radicals, but a complete 
change had come over them. They seemed to 
think the Republic, founded at last upon a solid 
basis, supported by honest Republicans, would 
bring untold prosperity not only to the country, 
but to each individual, and many very modest, 
unpretending citizens of the small towns saw them- 
selves conseilleurs generaux, deputies, perhaps 
even ministers. It was a curious change. How- 
ever, on the whole, the people in our part of the 
world were reasonable. I was sorry to go back to 
town. I liked the last beautiful days of Septem- 
ber in the country. The trees were just beginning 
to turn, and the rides in the woods were delightful, 
the roads so soft and springy. The horses seemed 

[208 1 



WADDINGTON AS PRIME MINISTER 

to like the brisk canter as much as we did. We 
disturbed all the forest life as we galloped along — 
hares and rabbits scuttled away — we saw their 
white tails disappearing into holes, and when we 
crossed a bit of plain, partridges a long distance 
off would rise and take their crooked flight across 
the fields. It was so still, always is in the woods, 
that the horses' feet could be heard a long way 
off. It was getting colder (all the country folk 
predicted a very cold winter) and the wood-fire 
looked very cheerful and comfortable in my little 
salon when we came in. 

However, everything must end, and W. had to 
go back to the fight, which promised to be lively. 
In Paris we found people wearing furs and prepar- 
ing for a cold winter. The house of the Quai 
d'Orsay was comfortable, w^ell warmed, caloriferes 
and big fires in all the rooms, and whenever there 
was any sun it poured into the rooms from the 
garden. I didn't take up my oflScial afternoon 
receptions. The session had not begun, and, as it 
seemed extremely unlikely that the coming year 
would see us still at the Quai d'Orsay, it was not 
worth while to embark upon that dreary function. 
I was at home every afternoon after five — had tea 
in my little blue salon, and always had two or 
three people to keep me company. Prince Hohen- 

[209] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

lohe came often, settled himself in an armchair 
with his cup of tea, and talked easily and charm- 
ingly about everything. He was just back from 
Germany and reported Bismarck and the Emperor 
(I should have said, perhaps, the Emperor and Bis- 
marck) as rather worried over the rapid strides 
France was making in radicalism. He reassured 
them, told them Grevy was essentially a man of 
peace, and, as long as moderate men like W., Leon 
Say, and their friends remained in office, things 
would go quietly. "Yes, if they remain. I have 
an idea we shan't stay much longer, and report 
says Freycinet will be the next premier." He evi- 
dently had heard the same report, and spoke 
warmly of Freycinet, — intelligent, energetic, and 
such a precise mind. If W. were obliged to resign, 
which he personally would regret, he thought Frey- 
cinet was the coming man — unless Gambetta 
wanted to be premier. He didn't think he did, 
was not quite ready yet, but his hand might be 
forced by his friends, and of course if he wanted it, 
he would be the next President du Conseil. He also 
told me a great many things that Blowitz had said 
to him — he had a great opinion of him — said he 
was so marvellously well-informed of all that was 
going on. It was curious to see how a keen, clever 
man like Prince Hohenlohe attached so much 

[2101 



WADDINGTON AS PRIME MINISTER 

importance to anything that Blowitz said. The 
nuncio, Monseigneur Czaski, came too sometimes 
at tea-time. He was a charming talker, but I 
always felt as if he were saying exactly what 
he meant to and what he wanted me to repeat 
to W. I am never quite sure with Italians. There 
is always a certain reticence under their extremely 
natural, rather exuberant manner. Monseigneur 
Czaski was not an Italian by birth — a Pole, but 
I don't know that they inspire much more con- 
fidence. 



[211] 



X 

PARLIAMENT BACK IN PARIS 

^ I ^HE question of the return of the ParHament 
-*- to Paris had at last been solved after endless 
discussions. All the Republicans were in favour 
of it, and they were masters of the situation. The 
President, Grevy, too wanted it very much. If 
the Chambers continued to sit at Versailles, he 
would be obliged to establish himself there, which 
he didn't want to do. Many people w^ere very un- 
willing to make the change, were honestly nervous 
about possible disturbances in the streets, and, 
though they grumbled too at the loss of time, the 
draughty carriages of the parliamentary train, etc., 
they still preferred those discomforts to any possi- 
bility of rioting and street fights, and the invasion 
of the Chamber of Deputies by a Paris mob. W. 
was very anxious for the change. 

He didn't in the least anticipate any trouble — 
his principal reason for wanting the Parliament 
back was the loss of time, and also to get rid of the 
conversations in the train, which tired him very 

[212] 



PARLIAMENT BACK IN PARIS 

much. He never could make himself heard with- 
out an effort, as his voice was low, had no "tim- 
bre," and he didn't hear his neighbours very well 
in the noise of the train. He always arrived at the 
station at the last minute, and got into the last 
carriage, hoping to be undisturbed, and have a 
quiet half -hour with his papers, but he w^as rarely 
left alone. If any deputy who wanted anything 
recognised him, he of course got in the same car- 
riage, because he knew he was sure of a half-hour 
to state his case, as the minister couldn't get away 
from him. The Chambers met, after a short vaca- 
tion in November, at last in Paris, and already 
there were so many interpellations announced on 
every possible subject, so many criticisms on the 
policy of the cabinet, and so many people wanting 
other people's places, that the session promised to 
be very lively — the Senate at the Palais du Lux- 
embourg, the Deputies at the Palais Bourbon. 

W. and I went over to the Luxembourg one 
morning early in October, to see the arrange- 
ments that had been made for the Senate. He 
wanted too to choose his seat. I hadn't been 
there in the daytime for years — I had dined once 
or twice at the Petit Palais with various presi- 
dents of the Senate, but my only impression was 
a very long drive (from the Barriere de I'Etoile 

[213] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

where we lived) and fine high rooms with heavy 
gilt furniture and tapestries. The palace was 
built by Maria de' Medici, wife of Henri IV. 
After the death of that very chivalrous but very 
undomestic monarch, she retired to the Luxem- 
bourg, and from there as regent (her son Louis 
XIII was only ten years old when his father died) 
for some years directed the policy of France under 
the guidance of her favourite, the Italian Concini, 
and his wife. 

The palace recalls very much the Palazzo Pitti 
in Florence, with its solid masonry and rather 
severe heavy architecture. It must have been a 
gloomy residence, notwithstanding the beautiful 
gardens with their broad alleys and great open 
spaces. The gardens are stiff, very Italian, with 
statues, fountains, and marble balustrades — not 
many flowers, except immediately around the pal- 
ace, but they were flooded with sunshine that day, 
and the old grey pile seemed to rise out of a par- 
terre of bright flowers. The palace has been 
slightly modernised, but the general architecture 
remains the same. Many people of all kinds have 
lived there since it was built — several royal princes, 
and the Emperor Napoleon when he was First 
Consul. He went from there to the Tuileries. 
The Luxembourg Palace has always been associ- 

[214] 



PARLIAMENT BACK IN PARIS 

ated with the history of France. During the Rev- 
olution it was a prison, and many of the curious 
scenes one reads of at that period took place in 
those old walls — the grandes dames so careful 
of their dress and their manners, the grands 
seigneurs so brave and gallant, striving in every 
way by their witty conversation and their music 
(for they sang and played in the prisons all through 
that awful time) to distract the women and make 
them forget the terrible doom that was hanging 
over them. Many well-known people went straight 
from the palace to the scaffold. It seemed a fit- 
ting place for the sittings of the Senate and the 
deliberations of a chosen body of men, who were 
supposed to bring a maturer judgment and a 
wider experience in the discussion of all the burn- 
ing questions of the day than the ardent young 
deputies so eager to have done with everything 
connected with the old regime and start fresh. 

After we had inspected the palace we walked 
about the gardens, which were charming that 
bright October morning, — the sun really too strong. 
We found a bench in the shade, and sat there very 
happy, W. smoking and wondering what the next 
turn of the wheel would bring us. A great many 
people were walking about and sitting under the 
trees. It was quite a different public from what 

[215] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

one saw anywhere else, many students of both 
sexes carrying books, small easels, and camp- 
stools, — some of the men such evident Bohemians, 
with long hair, sweeping moustache, and soft felt 
hat, — quite the type one sees in the pictures or 
plays of "La Vie de Boheme." Their girl com- 
panions looked very trim and neat, dressed gen- 
erally in black, their clothes fitting extremely well 
— most of them bareheaded, but some had hats of 
the simplest description — none of the flaunting 
feathers and bright flowers one sees on the boule- 
vards. They are a type apart, the modern gri- 
settes, so quiet and well-behaved as to be almost 
respectable. One always hears that the Quartier 
Latin doesn't exist any more — the students are 
more serious, less turbulent, and that the hard- 
working little grisette, quite content with her 
simple life and pleasure, has degenerated into the 
danseuse of the music-halls and barriere thea- 
tres. I don't think so. A certain class of young, 
impecunious students will always live in that 
quarter and will always amuse themselves, and 
they will also always find girls quite ready and 
happy to enjoy life a little while they are young 
enough to live in the present, and have no cares 
for the future. Children were playing about in 
the alleys and broad, open spaces, and climbing on 

[216] 



PARLIAMENT BACK IN PARIS 

the fountains when the keepers of the garden were 
not anywhere near — their nurses sitting in a sunny 
corner with their work. It was quite another 
world, neither the Champs-Elysees nor Mont- 
martre. All looked perfectly respectable, and the 
couples sitting on out-of-the-way benches, in most 
affectionate attitudes, were too much taken up 
with each other to heed the passer-by. 

I went back there several times afterward, tak- 
ing Francis with me, and it was curious how out 
of the world one felt. Paris, our Paris, might have 
been miles away. I learned to know some of the 
habitues quite well— a white-haired old gentleman 
who always brought bread for the birds; they knew 
him perfectly and would flutter down to the Square 
as soon as he appeared — a handsome young man 
with a tragic face, always alone, walking up and 
down muttering and talking to himself — he may 
have been an aspirant for the Odeon or some of 
the theatres in the neighbourhood — a lame man 
on crutches, a child walking beside him looking 
wistfully at the children playing about but not 
daring to leave her charge — groups of students 
hurrying through the gardens on their way to the 
Sorbonne, their black leather serviettes under their 
arms — couples always everywhere. I don't think 
there were many foreigners or tourists, — I never 

[217] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

heard anything but French spoken. Even the 
most disreputable-looking old beggar at the gate 
who sold shoe-laces, learned to know us, and w^ould 
run to open the door of the carriage. 

With the contrariety of human nature, some 
people would say of feminine nature, now that I 
felt I was not going to live much longer on the 
rive gauche I was getting quite fond of it. Life 
was so quiet and restful in those long, narrow 
streets, some even with grass growing on the pave- 
ment — no trams, no omnibuses, very little passing, 
glimpses occasionally of big houses standing well 
back from the street, a good-sized courtyard in 
front and garden at the back — the classic Fau- 
bourg St. Germain hotel entre cour et jardin. I 
went to tea sometimes with a friend who lived in 
a big, old-fashioned house in the rue de Varenne. 
She lived on the fourth floor — one w^ent up a 
broad, bare, cold stone staircase (which always re- 
minded me of some of the staircases in the Roman 
palaces). Her rooms were large, very high ceil- 
ings, very little furniture in them, very little fire 
in winter, fine old family portraits on the walls, 
but from the windows one looked down on a lovely 
garden where the sun shone and the birds sang all 
day. It was just Hke being in the country, so 
extraordinarily quiet. A very respectable man 

[218] 



PARLIAMENT BACK IN PARIS 

servant in an old-fashioned brown livery, with a 
great many brass buttons, who looked as old as 
the house itself and as if he were part of it, always 
opened the door. Her husband was a literary 
man who made conferences at the Sorbonne and 
the College de France, and they lived entirely 
in that quarter — came very rarely to our part of 
Paris. He was an old friend of W.'s, and they 
came sometimes to dine with us. He deplored 
W.'s having gone to the Foreign Office — thought 
the Public Instruction was so much more to his 
tastes and habits. She had an English grand- 
mother, knew English quite well, and read En- 
glish reviews and papers. She had once seen Queen 
Victoria and was very interested in all that con- 
cerned her. Queen Victoria had a great prestige 
in France. People admired not only the wise 
sovereign who had weathered successfully so many 
changes, but the beautiful woman's life as wife 
and mother. She was always spoken of with the 
greatest respect, even by people who were not 
sympathetic to England as a nation. 

Another of my haunts was the Convent and 
Maison de Sante of the Soeurs Augustines du Saint 
Coeur de Marie in the rue de la Sante. It was 
curious to turn out of the broad, busy, populous 
avenue, crowded with trams, omnibuses, and cam- 

[219 1 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

ions, into the narrow, quiet street, which seemed 
all stone walls and big doors. There was another 
hospital and a prison in the street, which naturally 
gave it rather a gloomy aspect, but once inside the 
courtyard of the Convent there was a complete 
transformation. One found one's self in a large, 
square, open court with arcades and buildings all 
around — the chapel just opposite the entrance. 
On one side of the court were the rooms for the 
patients, on the other nice rooms and small apart- 
ments which were let to invalids or old ladies, and 
which opened on a garden, really a park of thir- 
teen or fourteen acres. The doors were always 
open, and one had a lovely view of green fields and 
trees. The moment you put your foot inside the 
court, you felt the atmosphere of peace and cheer- 
fulness, though it was a hospital. The nuns all 
looked happy and smiling — they always do, and 
I always wonder why. Life in a cloister seems to 
me so narrow and monotonous and unsatisfying 
unless one has been bred in a convent and knows 
nothing of life but what the teachers tell. 

I have a friend who always fills me with aston- 
ishment — a very clever, cultivated woman, no 
longer very young, married to a charming man, ac- 
customed to life in its largest sense. Slie was 
utterly wretched w^hen her husband died, but 

[220] 



PARLIAMENT BACK IN PARIS 

after a time she took up her life again and seemed 
to find interest and pleasure in the things they had 
done together. Suddenly she announced her in- 
tention of becoming a nun — sold her house and 
lovely garden, where she had spent so many happy 
hours with her flowers and her birds, distributed 
her pretty things among her friends, and accepted 
all the small trials of strict convent life — no bath, 
nor mirror, coarse underlinen and sheets — no fire, 
no lights, no privacy, the regular irksome routine 
of a nun's life, and is perfectly happy — never misses 
the intellectual companionship and the refinement 
and daintiness of her former life, — likes the com- 
monplace routine of the convent — the books they 
read to each other in "recreation," simple stories 
one would hardly give to a child of twelve or four- 
teen, — the fetes on the "mother's" birthday, when 
the nuns make a cake and put a wreath of roses 
on the mother's head. 

The Soeurs Augustines are very happy in their 
lives, but they see a great deal more of the outside 
world. They always have patients in the hos- 
pital, and people in the apartments, which are 
much in demand. The care and attendance is 
very good. The ladies are very comfortable and 
have as many visitors as they like in the afternoon 
at stated hours, and the rooms are very tempting 

[221] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

with white walls and furniture, and scrupulously 
clean. The cuisine is very good, everything very 
daintily served. All day one saw black-robed fig- 
ures moving quietly across the court, carrying all 
kinds of invalid paraphernalia — cushions, rugs, 
cups of bouillon — but there was never any noise — 
no sound of talking or laughing. When they 
spoke, the voices were low, like people accustomed 
to a sick-room. No men were allowed in the Con- 
vent, except the doctors of course, and visitors at 
stated hours. 

I spent many days there one spring, as C. was 
there for some weeks for a slight operation. She 
had a charming room and dressing-room, with win- 
dows giving on a garden or rather farmyard, for 
the soeurs had their cows and chickens. Some- 
times in the evening we would see one of the sis- 
ters, her black skirt tucked up and a blue apron 
over it, bringing the cows back to their stables. 
No man could have a room in the house. F. 
wanted very much to be with his wife at night, as 
he was a busy man and away all day, and I tried 
to get a room for him, but the mother superior, a 
delightful old lady, wouldn't hear of it. How- 
ever, the night before and the night after the op- 
eration, he was allowed to remain with her, — no ex- 
tra bed was put in the room — he slept on the sofa. 

[222] 



PARLIAMENT BACK IN PARIS 

Often when C. was sleeping or tired, I would 
take my book and establish myself in the garden. 
Paris might have been miles away, though only a 
few yards off there was a busy, crowded boulevard, 
but no noise seemed to penetrate the thick walls. 
Occasionally at the end of a quiet path I would 
see a black figure pacing backward and forward, 
with eyes fixed on a breviary. Once or twice a 
soeur jardiniere with a big, flat straw hat over her 
coiffe and veil tending the flowers (there were not 
many) or weeding the lawn, sometimes conva- 
lescents or old ladies seated in armchairs under 
the trees, but there was never any sound of voices 
or of life. It was very reposeful (when one felt 
one could get away for a little while) , but I think 
the absolute calm and monotony would pall upon 
one, and the "Call of the World" — the struggling, 
living, joyous world outside the walls — would be 
an irresistible temptation. 

I walked about a good deal in my quarter in the 
morning, and made acquaintance with many funny 
little old squares and shops, merceries, flower and 
toy shops which had not yet been swallowed up 
by the enormous establishments like the Louvre, 
the Bon Marche, and the big bazaars. I don't 
know how they existed; there was never any one 
in the shops, and of course their choice was lim- 

[223] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

ited, but they were so grateful, their things were 
so much cheaper, and they were so anxious to get 
anything one wanted, that it was a pleasure to 
deal with them. Everything was much cheaper 
on that side — flowers, cakes, writing-paper, rents, 
servants' wages, stable equipment, horses' food. 
We bought some toys one year for one of our 
Christmas trees in the country from a poor old 
lame woman who had a tiny shop in one of the 
small streets running out of the rue du Bac. Her 
grandson, a boy of about twelve or fourteen, 
helped her in the shop, and they were so pleased 
and excited at having such a large order that they 
were quite bewildered. We did get what we 
wanted, but it took time and patience, — their 
stock was small and not varied. We had to choose 
piece by piece — horses, dolls, drums, etc. — and the 
writing down of the items and making up the ad- 
ditions was long and trying. I meant to go back 
after we left the Quai d'Orsay, but I never did, and 
I am afraid the poor old woman with her petit 
commerce shared the fate of all the others and 
could not hold out against the big shops. 

One gets lazy about shopping. The first years 
w^e lived in the country we used to go ourselves to 
the big shops and bazaars in Paris for our Christ- 
mas shopping, but the heat and the crowd and the 

[224] 



PARLIAMENT BACK IN PARIS 

waiting were so tiring that we finally made ar- 
rangements with the woman who sold toys in the 
little town, La Ferte-Milon. She went to Paris 
and brought back specimens of all the new toys. 
We went into town one, afternoon — all the toys 
were spread out on tables in her little parlour at 
the back of the shop (her little girl attending to 
the customers, who were consumed with curiosity 
as to why our carriage was waiting so long at the 
door) and we made our selection. She was a great 
help to us, as she knew all the children, their ages, 
and what they would like. She was very pleased 
to execute the commission — it made her of impor- 
tance in the town, having the big boxes come down 
from Paris addressed to her, and she paid her 
journey and made a very good profit by charging 
two or three sous more on each article. We were 
quite willing to pay the few extra francs to be 
saved the fatigue of the long day's shopping in 
Paris. It also settled another difficult question 
— what to buy in a small country town. Once we 
had exhausted the butcher and the baker and the 
small groceries, there was not much to buy. 

From the beginning of my life in the country, 
W. always wanted me to buy as much as possible 
in the town, and I was often puzzled. Now the 
shops in all the small country towns have im- 

[225] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

proved. They have their things straight from 
Paris, with very good catalogues, so that one can 
order fairly well. The things are more expensive 
of course, but I think it is right to give what help 
one can to the people of the country. One cold 
winter at Bourneville, when we had our house full 
of people, there was a sudden call for blankets. I 
thought my ''lingerie" was pretty well stocked, but 
one gentleman wanted four blankets on his bed, 
three over him and one under the sheet. A couple 
wanted the same, only one more, a blanket for a 
big armchair near the fire. I went in to La 
Ferte to see what I could find — no white blankets 
anywhere — some rather nice red ones — and plenty 
of the stiff (not at all warm) grey blankets they 
give to the soldiers. Those naturally were out of 
the question, but I took three or four red ones, 
which of course could not go in the guests' rooms, 
but were distributed on the beds of the family, 
their white ones going to the friends. After that 
experience I always had a reserve of blankets, but 
I was never asked for so many again. Living in 
the country, with people constantly staying in the 
house, gives one much insight into other people's 
way of living and what are the necessities of life 
for them. I thought our house was pretty well 
provided for. We were a large family party, and 

[ 2^20 ] 



PARLIAMENT BACK IN PARIS 

had all we wanted, but some of the demands were 
emious, varying of course with the nationalities. 

The Chambers met in Paris at the end of No- 
vember and took possession of their respective 
houses without the slightest disturbance of any- 
kind. Up to the last moment some people were 
nervous and predicting all sorts of trouble and 
complications. We spent the Toussaint in the 
country with some friends, and their views of the 
future were so gloomy that it was almost conta- 
gious. One afternoon when we were all assembled 
in the drawing-room for tea, after a beautiful day's 
shooting, the conversation (generally retrospective) 
was so melancholy that I was rather impressed 
by it, — "The beginning of the end, — the culpable 
weakness of the Government and Moderate men, 
giving way entirely to the Radicals, an invitation 
to the Paris rabble to interfere with the sittings 
of the Chambers," and a variety of similar remarks. 

It would have been funny if one hadn't felt that 
the speakers were really in earnest and anxious. 
However, nothing happened. The first few days 
there was a small, perfectly quiet, well-behaved 
crowd, also a very strong police force, at the Palais 
Bourbon, but I think more from curiosity and the 
novelty of seeing deputies again at the Palais Bour- 
bon than from any other reason. If it were quiet 

[227] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FREXCmVOMAN 

outside, one couldn't say the same of the inside 
of the Chamber. The fight began hotly at once. 
Speeches and interpellations and attacks on the 
Government were the order of the day. The dif- 
ferent members of the cabinet made statements 
explaining their policy, but apparently they had 
satisfied nobody on either side, and it was evident 
that the Chamber was not only dissatisfied but 
actively hostile. 

W. and his friends were very discouraged and 
disgusted. They had gone as far as they could in 
the way of concessions. W., at an}-^ rate, would do 
no more, and it was evident that the Chamber 
would seize the first pretext to overthrow the min- 
istry. W. saw Gre\y very often. He was opposed 
to any change, didn't want W. to go, said his 
presence at the Foreign Office gave confidence to 
Europe, — he might perhaps remain at the Foreign 
Office and resign as Premier, but that, naturally, 
he wouldn't do. He was really sick of the whole 
thing. 

Grevy was a thorough Republican but an old- 
fashioned Republican, — not in the least enthusi- 
astic, rather sceptical — didn't at all see the ideal 
Republic dreamed of by the younger men — where 
all men were alike — and nothing but honesty and 
true patriotism were the ruhng motives. I don't 

[228] 



PARLIAMENT BACK IN PARIS 

know if he went as far as a well-known diploma- 
tist, Prince Metternich, I think, who said he was so 
tired of the word fraternite that if he had a brother 
he would call him "cousin." Grevy w^as certainly 
very unwilUng to see things pass into the hands of 
the more advanced Left. I don't think he could 
have done anything — they say no constitutional 
President (or King either) can. 

There was a great rivalr^^ between him and 
Gambetta. Both men had such a strong position 
in the Republican party that it was a pity they 
couldn't understand each other. I suppose they 
were too unlike — Gambetta lived in an atmosphere 
of flattery and adulation. His head might well 
have been turned — all his familiars were at his 
feet, hanging upon his words, putting him on a 
pinnacle as a splendid patriot. Grevy's entourage 
was much calmer, recognising his great ability 
and his keen legal mind, not so enthusiastic but 
always wanting to have his opinion, and relying 
a good deal upon his judgment. There were of 
course all sorts of meetings and conversations at 
our house, with Leon Say, Jules Ferry, Casimir 
Perier, and others. St. VaUier came on from Ber- 
Hn, where he was still ambassador. He was very 
anxious about the state of affairs in France — said 
Bismarck was very worried at the great step the 

[229] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

Radicals had made in the new ParUament — was 
afraid the Moderate men would have no show. / 
believe he was pleased and hoped that a succes- 
sion of incapable ministries and internal quarrels 
would weaken France still more — and prevent her 
from taking her place again as a great power. He 
wasn't a generous victor. 

As long as W. was at the Foreign Office things 
went very smoothly. He and St. Vallier thought 
alike on most subjects, home politics and foreign 
— and since the Berlin Congress, where W. had 
come in touch with all the principal men in Ger- 
many, it was of course much easier for them to 
work together. We dined generally with my 
mother on Sunday night — particularly at this time 
of the year, when the official banquets had not 
begun and our Sundays were free. The evenings 
were always interesting, as we saw so many people, 
English and Americans always, and in fact all na- 
tionalities. We had lived abroad so much that we 
knew people all over the world, — it was a change 
from the eternal politics and "shop" talk we heard 
everywhere else. Some of them, English particu- 
larly (I don't think the Americans cared much 
about foreign politics), were most interested and 
curious over what was going on, and the probable 
fall of the cabinet. An English lady said to me: 

[230] 



PARLIAMENT BACK IN PARIS 

"How dreadful it will be for you when your hus- 
band is no longer minister; your life will be so dull 
and you will be of so much less importance." The 
last part of the sentence was undoubtedly true — 
any functionary's wife has a certain importance in 
France, and when your husband has been For- 
eign Minister and Premier, you fall from a certain 
height, but I couldn't accept the first part, that 
my life would be necessarily dull because I was no 
longer what one of my friends said in Italy, speak- 
ing of a minister's wife, a donna publica. I be- 
gan to explain that I really had some interest 
in life outside of politics, but she was so convinced 
of the truth of her observation that it was quite 
useless to pursue the conversation, and I natu- 
rally didn't care. Another one, an American this 
time, said to me: "I hope you don't mind my never 
having been to see you since you were married, 
but I never could remember your name; I only 
knew it began with W. and one sees it very often 
in the papers." 

Arthur SulHvan, the English composer, was there 
one night. He had come over to Paris to hear one 
of his symphonies played at the Conservatoire, 
and was very much pleased with the way it had 
been received by that very critical audience. He 
was quite surprised to find the Parisians so enthu- 

[231] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

siastic — had always heard the Paris Salle was so 
cold. 

Miss Kellogg, the American prima donna, was 
there too that evening, and we made a great deal 
of music, she singing and Sullivan accompanying 
by heart. Mrs. Freeman, wife of one of the En- 
glish secretaries, told W. that Queen Victoria had 
so enjoyed her talk with him — "quite as if I were 
talking with one of my own ministers." She had 
found Grevy rather stiff and reserved — said their 
conversation was absolutely banal. They spoke 
in French, and as Grevy knew nothing of England 
or the English, the interview couldn't have been 
interesting. 

We saw a great many people that last month, 
dined with all our colleagues of the diplomatic 
corps. They were already diners d'adieux, as 
every day in the papers the fall of the ministry 
was announced, and the names of the new ministers 
published. I think the diplomatists were sorry to 
see W\ go, but of course they couldn't feel very 
strongly on the subject. Their business is to be 
on good terms with all the foreign ministers, and to 
get as much as they can out of them. They are, 
with rare exceptions, birds of passage, and don't 
trouble themselves much about changing cabinets. 
However, they were all very civil, not too diffuse, 

[ ^232 1 



PARLIAMENT BACK IN PARIS 

and one had the impression that they would be 
just as civil to our successor and to his successor. 
It must be so; there is no profession so absolutely 
banal as diplomacy. All diplomatists, from the 
ambassador to the youngest secretary, must follow 
their instructions, and if by any chance an ambas- 
sador does take any initiative, profiting by being 
on the spot, and knowing the character of the peo- 
ple, he is promptly disowned by his chief. 

I had grown very philosophical, was quite ready 
to go or to stay, didn't mind the fight any more nor 
the attacks on W., which were not very vicious, but 
so absurd that no one who knew him could attach 
the least importance to them. He didn't care a 
pin. He had always been a Protestant, with an 
English name, educated in England, so the reit- 
eration of these facts, very much exaggerated and 
leading up to the conclusion that on account of 
his birth and education he couldn't be a convinced 
French Republican, didn't affect him very much. 
He had always promised me a winter in Italy 
when he left oflBce. He had never been in Rome, 
and I was delighted at the prospect of seeing that 
lovely land again, all blue sky and bright sun and 
smiling faces. 

We dined often with M. L., W.'s uncle, who kept 
us au courant of all (and it was little) that was 

[233] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

going on in the Royalist camp, but that was not 
of importance. The advanced RepubHcans were 
having it all their own way, and it was evident 
that the days of conciliatory measures and moder- 
ate men were over. W. was not a club man, went 
very rarely to his club, but his uncle went every 
afternoon before dinner, and gave us all the po- 
tins (gossip) of that world, very hostile to the 
Republic, and still quite believing that their turn 
would come. His uncle was not of that opinion. 
He was a very clever man, a diplomatist who had 
lived in a great many places and known a great 
many people, and was entirely on the Royalist 
side, but he thought their cause was a lost one, at 
least for a time. He often asked some of his 
friends to meet us at dinner, said it was a good 
thing for W. to hear what men on the other side 
thought, and W. was quite pleased to meet them. 
They were all absolutely opposed to him in poli- 
tics, and discussion sometimes ran high, but there 
was never anything personal — all were men of 
the world, had seen many changes in France in 
their lives; many had played a part in politics un- 
der the former regimes. It seemed to me that 
they underrated the intelligence and the strength 
of the Republican party. 

One of the regular habitues was the Marquis 
[234] 



PARLIAMENT BACK IN PARIS 

de N., a charming man, fairly broad-minded (given 
the atmosphere he hved in) and sceptical to the 
highest degree. He was a great friend of Marshal 
MacMahon, and had been prefet at Pan, where 
he had a great position. He was very dictatorial, 
very outspoken, but was a great favourite, particu- 
larly with the English colony, which is large there 
in the hunting-season. He had accepted to dine 
one night with an English family, who lived in a 
villa a little out of town. They had an accident 
en route, which delayed them very much, and when 
he and the marquise arrived the party was at 
table. He instantly had his carriage called back 
and left the house in spite of all the explanations 
and apologies of his host, saying that when "one 
had the honour of receiving the Marquis de N. one 
waited dinner for him." 

We saw always a great deal of him, as his 
daughter married the Comte de F., who was for 
some time in W.'s cabinet at the Quai d'Orsay, 
and afterward with us the ten years we were at 
the London Embassy, where they were quite part 
of the family. They were both perfectly fitted 
for diplomatic life, particularly in England. Both 
spoke English well, knew everybody, and remem- 
bered all the faces and all the names, no easy thing 
in England, where the names and titles change so 

[235] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

often. I know several Englishwomen who have 
had four different names. Lady Holland was also 
a friend of "Oncle Alphonse" and dined there 
often. She was delicate-looking, rather quiet in 
general conversation, though she spoke French 
easily, but was interesting when she was talking 
to one or two people. We went often to her beau- 
tiful house in London, the first years we were at 
the embassy, and always met interesting people. 
Her salon was very cosmopolitan — every one who 
came to London wanted to go to Holland House, 
which was a museum filled with beautiful things. 
Another lady who was often at my uncle's was 
quite a different type. Mademoiselle A., an old pu- 
pil of the Conservatoire, who had made a short 
career at the Comedie Frangaise many years be- 
fore. She was really charming, and her stories of 
the coulisses and the jalousies between the authors 
and the actors, particularly the stars (who hardly 
accepted the slightest observation from the writer 
of the play), were most amusing. Once the piece 
was accepted it passed into the domain of the 
theatre, and the actors felt at liberty to interpret 
the roles according to their ideas and traditions. 
She had a perfect diction; it was a delight to 
hear her. She recited one night one of Alphonse 
Daudet's little contes, "Lettres de Mon Moulin," 

[236] 



PARLIAMENT BACK IN PARIS 

I think, beginning — "Qui n'a pas vu Avignon du 
temps des Papes n'a rien vu." One couldn't hear 
anything more charming, in a perfectly trained 
voice, and so easily and naturally said. 

I suppose no one would listen to it in these days. 
Bridge has suppressed all conversation or music or 
artistic enjoyment of any kind. It must come to 
an end some day like all crazes, but at the present 
moment it has destroyed society. It has been a 
godsend to many people of no particular impor- 
tance or position who have used it as a stepping- 
stone to get into society. If people play a good 
game of bridge, they are welcome guests in a great 
many houses which formerly would have been 
closed to them, and it is a great resource to ladies 
no longer very young, widows and spinsters, who 
find their days long and don't know what to do 
with their lives. 

Notwithstanding his preoccupations, W. man- 
aged to get a few days' shooting in November. 
He shot several times at Rambouillet with Grevy, 
who was an excellent shot, and his shooting break- 
fasts were very pleasant. There was plenty of 
game, everything very well organised, and the 
company agreeable. He always asked the min- 
isters, ambassadors, and many of the leading polit- 
ical men and very often some of his old friends, 

[237] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

lawyers and men of various professions whom W. 
was delighted to meet. Their ideas didn't run 
in grooves like most of the men he lived with, and 
it was a pleasure to hear talk that wasn't political 
nor personal. The vicious attacks upon persons 
were so trying those first days of the Republic. 
Every man who was a little more prominent than 
his neighbour seemed a target for every kind of 
insinuation and criticism. 

We went for two days to "Pout," Casimir 
Perier's fine place in the departement de I'Aube, 
where we had capital shooting. It was already 
extremely cold for the season — the big pond in 
the court was frozen hard, and the wind whistled 
about our ears when we drove in an open carriage 
to join the shooters at breakfast. Even I, who 
don't usually feel the cold, was thankful to be 
well wrapped up in furs. The Pavilion d'Hiver 
looked very inviting as we drove up — an immense 
fire was blazing in the chimney, another just out- 
side, where the soup and ragout for the army of 
beaters were being prepared. We all had nice 
little foot-warmers under our chairs, and were as 
comfortable as possible. It w^as too warm in fact 
when the shooters came in and we sat down to 
breakfast. We were obliged to open the door. 
The talk was entirely "shop" at breakfast, every 

[ 238 ] 



PARLIAMENT BACK IN PARIS 

man telling what he had killed, or missed, and the 
minute they had finished breakfast, they started 
off again. We followed one or two battues (pheas- 
ants), but it was really too cold, and we were glad 
to walk home to get warm. 

The dinner and evening were pleasant — every- 
body talking — most of them criticising the Govern- 
ment freely. W. didn't mind, they were all 
friends. He defended himself sometimes, merely 
asking what they would have done in his place — 
he was quite ready to receive any suggestions — 
but nothing practical ever came out of the dis- 
cussions. I think the most delightful political 
position in the world must be " leader of the op- 
position" — you have no responsibilities, can con- 
centrate all your energies in pointing out the weak 
spots in your adversary's armour, and have always 
your work cut out for you, for as soon as one 
ministry falls, you can set to work to demolish its 
successor, which seems the most interesting oc- 
cupation possible. 

The great question which was disturbing the 
Chambers and the country was the general am- 
nesty. That, of course, W. would never agree to. 
There might be exceptions. Some of the men who 
took part in the Commune were so young, little 
more than lads, carried away by the example of 

[239] 



—^nrnaTmriuiM.t.: 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

their elders and the excitement of the moment, 
and there were fiery patriotic articles in almost all 
the Republican papers inviting France to make the 
beau geste of la mere patrie and open her arms 
to her misguided children, and various sensible 
experienced men really thought it would be better 
to wipe out everything and start again with no 
dark memories to cast a shadow on the beginnings 
of the young Republic. How many brilliant, 
sanguine, impossible theories I heard advanced all 
those days, and how the few remaining members 
of the Centre Gauche tried to reason with the most 
liberal men of the Centre Droit and to persuade 
them frankly to face the fact that the country 
had sent a strong Republican majority to Par- 
liament and to make the best of the fait accom- 
pli. I suppose it was asking too much of them 
to go back on the traditions of their lives, but after 
all they were Frenchmen, their country was just 
recovering from a terrible disaster, and had need of 
all her children. During the Franco-Prussian War 
all party feeling was forgotten. Every man was 
first a Frenchman in the face of a foreign foe, and 
if they could have stood firmly together in those 
first days after the war the strength of the country 
would have been wonderful. All Europe was as- 
tounded at the way in which France paid her mil- 

[2401 



PARLIAMENT BACK IN PARIS 

liards, — no one more so than Bismarck, who Is 
supposed to have said that, if he could have 
dreamed that France could pay that enormous 
sum so quickly, he would have asked much more. 

December was very cold, snow^ and ice every- 
where, and very hard frosts, which didn't give 
way at all when the sun came out occasionally in 
the middle of the day. Everybody was skating, 
not only at the clubs of the Bois de Boulogne, but 
on the lakes, which happens very rarely, as the 
water is fairly deep. The Seine was full of large 
blocks of ice, which got jammed up against the 
bridges and made a jarring ugly sound as they 
knocked against each other. The river steamers 
had stopped running, and there were crowds of 
flaneurs loitering on the quais and bridges won- 
dering if the cold would last long enough for the 
river to be quite frozen over. 

W. and I went two or three times to the Cercle 
des Patineurs at the Bois de Boulogne, and had 
a good skate. The women didn't skate as well 
then as they do now, but they looked very pretty 
in their costumes of velvet and sables. It was 
funny to see them stumbling over the ice with 
a man supporting them on each side. However, 
they enjoyed it very much. It was beautiful win- 
ter weather, very cold but no wind, and it was very 

[241] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

good exercise. All the world was there, and the 
afternoons passed quickly enough. I had not 
skated for years, having spent all my winters in 
Italy, but on the principle that you never forget 
anything that you know well, I thought I would 
try, and will say that the first half-hour was abso- 
lute suffering. It was in the old days when one 
still wore a strap over the instep, which naturally 
was drawn very tight. My feet were like lumps of 
ice, as heavy as lead, and I didn't seem able to lift 
them from the ground. I went back to the dress- 
ing-room to take my skates off for a few minutes, 
and when the blood began to circulate again, I 
could have cried with the pain. A friend of mine, 
a beginner, who was sitting near waiting to have 
her skates put on, was rather discouraged, and said 
to me: "You don't look as if you were enjoying 
yourself. I don't think I will try." "Oh yes you 
must, — 'les commencements sont toujours diffi- 
ciles,' and you will learn. I shall be all right as 
soon as I start again." She looked rather doubt- 
ful, but I saw her again later in the day, when I 
had forgotten all about my sufferings, and she was 
skating as easily as I did when I was a girl. I think 
one must learn young. After all, it is more or less 
a question of balance. \Mien one is young one 
doesn't mind a fall. 

[242] 



PARLIAMENT BACK IN PARIS 

W., who had retired to a corner to practise a httle 
by himself, told me that one of his friends, Comte 
de Pourtales, not at all of his way of thinking in 
politics, an Imperialist, was much pleased with a 
little jeu d'esprit he had made at his expense. W. 
caught the top of his skate in a crevice in the ice, 
and came down rather heavily in a sitting posture. 
Comte de Pourtales, who was standing near on 
the bank, saw the fall and called out instantly, 
"Est-ce possible que je voie le President du Con- 
seil par terre?" (Is it possible that the President 
du Conseil has fallen?) The little joke was quite 
de bonne guerre and quite appropriate, as the 
cabinet was tottering and very near its fall. It 
amused W. quite as much as it did the bystanders. 

The cold was increasing every day, the ground 
was frozen hard, the streets very slippery, and going 
very difficult. All our horses were rough shod, but 
even with that we made very slow progress. Some 
of the omnibuses were on runners, and one or two 
of the young men of the ministry had taken off 
the wheels of their light carriages and put them on 
runners, but one didn't see many real sleighs or 
sledges, as they call them here. I fancj' '"sleigh" 
is entirely an American expression. The Seine 
was at last completely taken, and the public was 
allowed on the ice, which was very thick. It was 

[243] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

a very pretty, animated sight, many booths like 
those one sees on the Boulevard during the Christ- 
mas holidays were installed on the ice close to the 
banks, and the river was black with people. They 
couldn't skate much, as the ice was rough and 
there were too many people, but they ran and slid 
and shouted and enjoyed themselves immensely. 
I wanted to cross one day with my boy, that he 
might say he had crossed the Seine on foot, but W. 
was rather unwilling. However, the prefet de la 
Seine, whom he consulted, told him there was ab- 
solutely no danger — the ice was several inches 
thick, so I started off one afternoon, one of the 
secretaries going with me. He was much as- 
tonished and rather nervous at seeing me in my 
ordinary boots. He had nails in his, and one of 
our friends whom we met on the ice had woollen 
socks over his boots. They were sure I would slip 
and perhaps get a bad fall. "But no one could 
slip on that ice; it is quite rough, might almost be 
a ploughed field," — but they were uncomfortable, 
and were very pleased when I landed safely on the 
other side and got into the carriage. Just in the 
middle the boys had swept a path on the ice to 
make a glissade. They were racing up and down 
in bands, and the constant passing had made it 
quite level and very slippery. We saw three or 

[244] 



PARLIAMENT BACK IN PARIS 

four unwary pedestrians get a fall, but if one kept 
on the outside near the bank there was no danger of 
slipping. 

The extreme cold lasting so long brought many 
discomforts. Many trains with wood and pro- 
visions couldn't get to Paris. The railroads were 
all blocked and the Parisians were getting uneasy, 
fearing they might run short of food and fuel. We 
were very comfortable in the big rooms of the 
ministry. There were roaring fires everywhere, 
and two or three caloriferes. The view from the 
windows on the Quai was charming as long as the 
great cold lasted, particularly at night, when the 
river was alive with people, lights and coloured 
lanterns, and music. Every now and then there 
would be a ronde or a farandole, — the farandole 
forcing its way through the crowd, every one car- 
rying a lantern and looking like a brilliant snake 
winding in and out. 

We had some people dining one night, and they 
couldn't keep away from the windows. Some of 
the young ones (English) wanted to go down and 
have a lark on the ice, but it wasn't possible. The 
crowd, though thoroughly good-humoured, merely 
bent on enjoying themselves, had degenerated into 
a rabble. One would have been obliged to have a 
strong escort of police, and besides in evening 

[245] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

dress, even with fur cloaks and the fur and woollen 
boots every one wore over their thin shoes, one 
would certainly have risked getting a bad attack 
of pneumonia. One of our great friends, Sir 
Henry Hoare, was dining that night, but he didn't 
want to go down, preferred smoking his cigar in a 
warm room and talking politics to W. He had 
been a great deal in Paris, knew everybody, and 
was a member of the Jockey Club. He was much 
interested in French politics and au fond was 
very liberal, quite sympathised with W. and his 
friends and shared their opinions on most subjects, 
though as he said, "I don't air those opinions at 
the Jockey Club." He came often to our big re- 
ceptions, liked to see all the people. He too used 
to tell me all that was said in his club about 
the Republic and the Government, but he was a 
shrewd observer, had been a long time an M. P. in 
England, and had come to the conclusion that the 
talk at the clubs was chiefly a "pose," — they 
didn't really have many illusions about the restora- 
tion of the monarchy, couldn't have, when even the 
Due de Broglie with his intelligence and following 
(the Faubourg St. Germain followed him blindly) 
could do nothing but make a constitutional Re- 
public with Marshal MacMahon at its head. 
It was always said too that the women were more 
[240] 



PARLIAMENT BACK IN PARIS 

uncompromising than the men. I went one after- 
noon to a concert at the Austrian Embassy, given 
in aid of some inundations, which had been a 
catastrophe for that country, hundreds of houses, 
and people and cattle swept away! The French 
public had responded most generously, as they 
always do, to the urgent appeal made by the am- 
bassador in the name of the Emperor, and the 
Government had contributed largely to the fund. 
Count Beust the Austrian ambassador was obliged 
of course to invite the Government and Madame 
Grevy to the entertainment, as well as his friends 
of the Faubourg St. Germain. Neither Madame 
nor Mademoiselle Grevy came, but some of the 
ministers' wives did, and it was funny to see 
the ladies of society looking at the Republican 
ladies, as if they were denizens of a different 
planet, strange figures they were not accustomed to 
see. It is curious to think of all that now, when 
relations are much less strained. I remember not 
very long ago at a party at one of the embassies, 
seeing many of the society women having them- 
selves presented to the wife of the then Minister of 
Foreign Affairs, with whom they certainly had 
nothing in common, neither birth, breeding, nor 
mode of life. I was talking to Casimir Perier 
(late President of the Republic) and it amused us 

[247] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

very much to see the various introductions and 
the great empressement of the ladies, all of whom 
were asking to be presented to Madame R. ' ' What 
can all those women want?" I asked him. He re- 
plied promptly, "Embassies for their husbands." 
It would have been better, I think, in a worldly 
point of view, if more embassies had been given to 
the bearers of some of the great names of France 
— but there were so many candidates for every 
description of function in France just then, from 
an ambassador to a gendarme, that anybody who 
had anything to give found himself in a difficult 
position. 



[2-48] 



XI 

LAST DAYS AT THE FOREIGN OFFICE 

THE end of December was detestable. We 
were en pleine crise for ten days. Every 
day W. went to the Chamber of Deputies expecting 
to be beaten, and every evening came home dis- 
couraged and disgusted. The Chamber was mak- 
ing the position of the ministers perfectly untena- 
ble — all sorts of violent and useless propositions 
were discussed, and there was an undercurrent of 
jealousy and intrigue everywhere. One day, just 
before Christmas, about the 20th, W. and his chef 
de cabinet, Comte de P., started for the house, 
after breakfast — W. expecting to be beaten by a 
coalition vote of the extreme Left, Bonapartists 
and Legitimists. It was an insane policy on the 
part of the two last, as they knew perfectly well 
they wouldn't gain anything by upsetting the 
actual cabinet. They would only get another one 
much more advanced and more masterful. I sup- 
pose their idea was to have a succession of radical 
inefficient ministers, which in the end would dis- 
gust the country and make a "saviour," a prince 

[249] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

(which one?) or general, possible. How wise their 
reasoning was time has shown! I wanted to go 
to the Chamber to hear the debate, but W. didn't 
want me. He would be obliged to speak, and said 
it W' ould worry him if I w^ere in the gallery listen- 
ing to all the attacks made upon him. (It is rather 
curious that I never heard him speak in public, 
either in the house or in the country, where he 
often made political speeches, in election times.) 
He was so sure that the ministry would fall that 
we had already begun cleaning and making fires 
in our own house, so on that afternoon, as I didn't 
want to sit at home waiting for telegrams, I went 
up to the house w^ith Henrietta. The caretaker 
had already told us that the stock of wood and 
coal was giving out, and she couldn't get any more 
in the quarter, and if she couldn't make fires the 
pipes would burst, which was a pleasant prospect 
with the thermometer at I don't remember how 
many degrees below zero. We found a fine clean- 
ing going on — doors and windows open all over the 
house — and women scrubbing stairs, floors, and 
windows, rather under difficulties, with little fire 
and little water. It looked perfectly dreary and 
comfortless — not at all tempting. All the furni- 
ture was piled up in the middle of the rooms, and 
W.'s library was a curiosity. Books and pam- 

[2501 



LAST DAYS AT THE FOREIGN OFFICE 

pblets accumulated rapidly with us, W. was a 
member of many literary societies of all kinds all 
over the world, and packages and boxes of un- 
opened books quite choked up the room. H. and 
I tried to arrange things a little, but it was hope- 
less that day, and, besides, the house was bitterly 
cold. It didn't feel as if a fire could make any 
impression. 

As we could do nothing there, we went back to 
the ministry. No telegrams had come, but Kruft, 
our faithful and efficient chef du materiel, was 
waiting for me for last instructions about a Christ- 
mas tree. Some days before I had decided to have 
a Christmas tree, about the end of the month. 
W. then thought the ministry would last over the 
holidays, the treve des confiseurs, and was quite 
willing I should have a Christmas party as a last 
entertainment. He had been too occupied the 
last days to think about any such trifles, and Kruft, 
not having had any contrary instructions, had 
ordered the presents and decorations. He was 
rather depressed, because W. had told him that 
morning that we surely would not be at the Quai 
d'Orsay on the 29th, the day we had chosen for 
our party. However, I reassured him, and told 
him we would have the Christmas tree all the same, 
only at my house instead of at the ministry. We 

[2511 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

went to look at his presents, which were all spread 
out on a big table in one of the drawing-rooms. 
He really was a wonderful man, never forgot any- 
thing, and had remembered that at the last tree, 
the year before, one or two nurses had had no 
presents, and several who had were not pleased 
with what was given to them. He had made a 
very good selection for those ladies, — lace scarfs 
and rabats and little tours de cou of fur, — really 
very pretty. I believe they were satisfied this 
time. The young men of the Chancery sent me up 
two telegrams: *'rien de nouveau," — "ministere 
debout." 

W. came home late, verj'' tired and much dis- 
gusted with politics in general and his party in 
particular. The cabinet still lived, but merely to 
give Grevy time to make another. W. had been 
to the Elysee and had a long conversation with 
Grevj". He found him very preoccupied, very un- 
willing to make a change, and he again urged W. 
very^ much to keep the Foreign Office, if Freycinet 
should succeed in making a ministry. That W. 
would not agree to — he was sick of the whole 
thing. He told Grevy he was quite right to send 
for Freycinet — if any man could save the situation 
he could. We had one or two friends, political 
men, to dinner, and they discussed the situation 

[252] 




^ , ?^ .if] 

'■'■"^"it m.^ c.fr''^' 








*>>r 



M. de Freycinet. 

After a photogiapli liy M, Nnilaz, Par 



LAST DAYS AT THE FOREIGN OFFICE 

from every point of view, always ending with the 
same conclusion, that W. was right to go. His 
policy wasn't the poHcy of the Chamber (I don't 
say of the country, for I think the country knew 
little and cared less about what was going on 
in ParHament), hardly the policy of all his own 
colleagues. There was really no use to continue 
worrying himself to death and doing no good. W. 
said his conversation with Grevy was interesting, 
but he was much more concerned with home poli- 
tics and the sweeping changes the Republicans 
wanted to make in all the administrations than 
with foreign policy. He said Europe was quiet 
and France's first duty was to establish herself 
firmly, which would only be done by peace and 
prosperity at home. I told W. I had spent a very 
cold and uncomfortable hour at the house, and I 
was worried about the cold, thought I might, per- 
haps, send the boy to mother, but he had taken 
his precautions and arranged with the Minister of 
War to have a certain amount of wood delivered 
at the house. They always had reserves of wood 
at the various ministries. We had ours directly 
from our own woods in the country, and it was en 
route, but a flotilla of boats was frozen up in the 
Canal de I'Ourcq, and it might be weeks before 
the wood could be delivered. 

[253] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

We dined one night at the British Embassy, 
while all these pourparlers were going on, en petit 
comite, all English, Lord and Lady Reay, Lord 
Edmond Fitz-Maurice, and one or two members 
of Parliament whose names I have forgotten. 
Both Lord and Lady Reay were very keen about 
politics, knew France well, and were much inter- 
ested in the phase she was passing through. Lord 
Lyons was charming, so friendly and sensible, 
said he wasn't surprised at W.'s wanting to go — 
still hoped this crisis would pass like so many 
others he had seen in France; that certainly W.'s 
presence at the Foreign Office during the last year 
had been a help to the Republic — said also he 
didn't believe his retirement would last very long. 
It was frightfully cold when we came out of the 
embassy — very few carriages out, all the coach- 
men wrapped up in mufflers and fur caps, and the 
Place de la Concorde a sea of ice so slippery I 
thought we should never get across and over the 
bridge. I went to the opera one night that week, 
got there in an entr'acte, when people were walk- 
ing about and reading the papers. As I passed 
several groups of men, I heard W.'s name men- 
tioned, also that of Leon Say and Freycinet, but 
just in passing by quickly I could not hear any 
comments. I fancy they were not favourable 

[254] 



LAST DAYS AT THE FOREIGN OFFICE 

in that milieu. It was very cold in the house — 
almost all the women had their cloaks on — and 
the coming out was something awful, crossing that 
broad perron in the face of a biting wind. 

I began my packing seriously this time, as W.'s 
mind was quite made up. He had thought the 
matter well over, and had a final talk with Frey- 
cinet, who would have liked to keep both W. and 
Leon Say, but it wasn't easy to manage the new 
element that Freycinet brought with him. The 
new members were much more advanced in 
their opinions. W. couldn't have worked with 
them, and they certainly didn't want to work 
with him. The autumn session came to a turbu- 
lent end on the 26th of December, and the next 
day the papers announced that the ministers had 
given their resignations to the President, who had 
accepted them and had charged M. de Freycinet to 
form a cabinet. We dined with mother on Christ- 
mas day, a family party, with the addition of 
Comte de P. and one or two stray Americans who 
were at hotels and were of course delighted not 
to dine on Christmas day at a table d'hote or 
cafe. W. was rather tired; the constant talking 
and seeing so many people of all kinds was very 
fatiguing, for, as long as his resignation was not 
official, announced in the Journal Officiel, he was 

[255] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

still Minister of Foreign Affairs. One of the last 
days, when they were hoping to come to an agree- 
ment, he was obliged to come home early to receive 
the mission from Morocco. I saw them arrive; 
they were a fine set of men, tall, powerfully built, 
their skin a red-brown, not black, entirely dressed 
in white from turbans to sandals. None of them 
spoke any French — all the conversation took place 
through an interpreter. Notwithstanding our wor- 
ries, we had a very pleasant evening and W. was 
very cheerful — looking forward to our Italian trip 
with quite as much pleasure as I did. 

W. made over the ministry to Freycinet on 
Monday, the 28th, the transmission des pouvoirs. 
Freycinet was very nice and friendly, regretted 
that he and W. were no longer colleagues. He 
thought his ministry was strong and was con- 
fident he would manage the Chamber. W. told 
him he could settle himself as soon as he liked at 
the Quai d'Orsay, as we should go at once, and 
would sleep at our house on Wednesday night. 
Freycinet said Madame de Freycinet (whom I 
knew well and liked very much) would come and 
see me on W^ednesday, and would like to go over 
the house with me. I was rather taken aback when 
W. told me we must sleep in our own house on 
Wednesday night. The actual packing was not 

[ 256 ] 



LAST DAYS AT THE FOREIGN OFFICE 

very troublesome, as I had not brought many of 
my own things from the rue Dumont d'Urville. 
There was scarcely a van-load of small furniture 
and boxes, but the getting together of all the 
small things was a bore, — books, bibelots, music, 
cards, and notes (these in quantities, lettres de 
condoleance, which had to be carefully sorted as 
they had all to be answered). The hotel of the 
Quai d'Orsay was crowded with people those last 
two days, all W.'s friends coming to express their 
regrets at his departure, some very sincerely sorry 
to see him go, as his name and character certainly 
inspired confidence abroad — and some delighted 
that he was no longer a member of such an ad- 
vanced cabinet — (some said "de cet infect gou- 
vernement"), where he was obliged by his mere 
presence to sanction many things he didn't ap- 
prove of. He and Freycinet had a long talk on 
Wednesday, as W. naturally wanted to be sure 
that some provision would be made for his chef de 
cabinet and secretaries. Each incoming minister 
brings his own staff with him. Freycinet offered 
W. the London Embassy, but he wouldn't take 
it, had had enough of public life for the present. 
I didn't want it either, I had never lived much in 
England, had not many friends there, and was 
counting the days until we could get off to Rome. 

[2571 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

There was one funny result of W. having dechned 
the London Embassy. Admiral Pothnau, whom 
W. had named there, and who was very much 
liked, came to see him one day and made a great 
scene because Freycinet had offered him the Lon- 
don Embassy. W. said he didn't understand why 
he made a scene, as he had refused it. "But it 
should never have been offered to you over my 
head." "Perhaps, but that is not my fault. I 
didn't ask for it — and don't want it. If you think 
you have been treated badly, you should speak to 
Freycinet." However, the admiral was very much 
put out, and was very cool with us both for a long 
time. I suppose his idea was that being recalled 
would mean that he had not done well in London, 
which was quite a mistake, as he was very much 
liked there. 

We dined alone that last night at the ministry, 
and sat some time in the window, looking at the 
crowds of people amusing themselves on the Seine, 
and wondering if we should ever see the Quai 
d'Orsay again. After all, we had had two very 
happy interesting years there — and memories that 
would last a lifetime. Some of the last experiences 
of the month of December had been rather dis- 
illusioning, but I suppose one must not bring any 
sentiment into politics. In the world it is always 

[258] 



LAST DAYS AT THE FOREIGN OFFICE 

a case of donnant — donnant — and — when one is 
no longer in a position to give a great deal — peo- 
ple naturally turn to the rising man. Comte de 
P., chef de cabinet, came in late as usual, to have 
a last talk. He too had been busy, as he had a 
small apartment and stables in the hotel of the 
ministry, and was also very anxious to get away. 
He told us all the young men of the cabinet Avere 
very sorry to see W. go — at first they had found 
him a little cold and reserved — but a two years' 
experience had shown them that, if he were not 
expansive, he was perfectly just, and always did 
what he said he would. 

The next day Madame de Freycinet came to 
see me, and we went over the house. She didn't 
care about the living-rooms, as they never lived 
at the Quai d'Orsay, remained in their own hotel 
near the Bois de Boulogne. Freycinet came every 
day to the ministry, and she merely on reception 
days — or when there was a party. Just as she 
was going, Madame de Zuylen, wife of the Dutch 
minister, a great friend of mine, came in. She 
told me she had great difficulty in getting up, as 
I had forbidden my door, but my faithful Gerard 
(I think I missed him as much as anything else at 
first) knowing we were friends, thought Madame 
would like to see her. She paid me quite a long 

[259] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

visit, — I even gave her some tea off government 
plate and china, — all mine had been already sent 
to my own house. We sat talking for some time. 
She had heard that W. had refused the London 
Embassy, was afraid it was a mistake, and that 
the winter in Paris would be a difficult one for him 
— he would certainly be in opposition to the Gov- 
ernment on all sorts of questions — and if he re- 
mained in Paris he would naturally go to the Sen- 
ate and vote. I quite agreed that he couldn't 
suddenly detach himself from all political discus- 
sions — must take part in them and must vote. 
The policy of abstention has always seemed to me 
the weakest possible line in politics. If a man, 
for some reason or another, hasn't the courage of 
his opinions, he mustn't take any position where 
that opinion would carry weight. I told her we 
were going to Italy as soon as we could get off 
after the holidays. 

While we were talking, a message came up to 
say that the young men of the cabinet were all 
coming up to say good-bye to me. I had seen the 
directors earlier in the day, so Madame de Zuylen 
took her leave, promising to come to my Christ- 
mas tree in the rue Dumont d'Urville. The young 
men seemed sorry to say good-bye — I was, too. I 
had seen a great deal of them and always found 

[260 1 



LAST DAYS AT THE FOREIGN OFFICE 

them ready and anxious to help me in every way. 
The Comte de Lasteyrie, who was a great friend 
of ours as well as a secretary, went about a great 
deal with us. W. called upon him very often for all 
sorts of things, knowing he could trust him abso- 
lutely. He told one of my friends that one of his 
principal functions was to accompany Madame 
Waddington to all the charity sales, carrying a 
package of women's chemises under his arm. It 
was quite true that I often bought "poor clothes" 
at the sales. The objects exposed in the way of 
screens, pincushions, table-covers, and, in the 
spring, hats made by some of the ladies, were so 
appalling that I was glad to have poor clothes to 
fall back upon, but I don't remember his ever 
carrying my purchases home with me. 

They were much amused when suddenly Francis 
burst into the room, having escaped a moment from 
his Nonnon, who was busy with her last packing, 
his little face flushed and quivering with anger be- 
cause his toys had been packed and he was to be 
taken away from the big house. He kicked and 
screamed like a little mad thing, until his nurse 
came to the rescue. I made a last turn in the 
rooms to see that all trace of my occupation had 
vanished. Francis, half pacified, was seated on 
the billiard-table, an old grey -haired huissier, who 

[261] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

was always on duty up-stairs, taking care of him. 
The huissiers and house servants were all assem- 
bled in the hall, and the old Pierson, who had been 
there for years, was the spokesman, and hoped 
respectfully that Madame "would soon come back. 
. . ." W. didn't come with us, as he still had people 
to see and only got home in time for a late dinner. 

We dined that night and for many nights after- 
ward with our uncle Lutteroth (who had a charm- 
ing hotel filled with pictures and bibelots and 
pretty things) just across the street, as it was some 
little time before our kitchen and household got 
into working order again. The first few days were, 
of course, very tiring and uncomfortable — the 
house seemed so small after the big rooms at the 
Quai d'Orsay. I didn't attempt to do anything 
with the salons, as we were going away so soon — 
carpets and curtains had to be arranged to keep 
the cold out, but the big boxes remained in the 
carriage house — not unpacked. We had a pro- 
cession of visitors all day — and tried to make 
W\'s library possible — comfortable it wasn't, as 
there were packages of books and papers and boxes 
everywhere. 

I had a good many visits and flowers on New 
Year's day — which was an agreeable surprise — 
Lord Lyons, Orloff , the Sibberns, Comte de Segur, 

[262] 



LAST DAYS AT THE FOREIGN OFFICE 

M. Alfred Andre, and others. Andre, an old 
friend of W.'s, a very conservative Protestant 
banker, was very blue about affairs. Andre was 
the type of the modern French Protestant. They 
are almost a separate class in France — are very 
earnest, religious, honourable, narrow-minded peo- 
ple. They give a great deal in charity and good 
works of all kinds. In Paris the Protestant co- 
terie is very rich. They associate with all the 
Catholics, as many of them entertain a great deal, 
but they live among themselves and never inter- 
marry. I hardly know a case where a French Prot- 
estant has married a Catholic. I suppose it is a 
remnant of their old Huguenot blood, and the mem- 
ories of all their forefathers suffered for their re- 
ligion, which makes them so intolerant. The am- 
bassadors had paid their usual official visit to the 
Elysee — said Grevy was very smiling and amiable, 
didn't seem at all preoccupied. We had a family 
dinner at my uncle's on New Year's night, and all 
the family with wonderful unanimity said the best 
wish they could make for W. was that 1880 would 
see him out of politics and leading an independent 
if less interesting life. 

An interesting life it certainly was, hearing so 
many questions discussed, seeing all sorts of people 
of all nationalities and living as it were behind the 

[263] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

scenes. The Chamber of Deputies in itself was a 
study, with its astounding changes of opinion, with 
no apparent cause. One never knew in the morn- 
ing what the afternoon's session would bring, for 
as soon as the Republican party felt themselves 
firmly established, they began to quarrel among 
themselves. I went back to the ministry one 
afternoon to pay a formal visit to Madame de 
Freycinet on her reception day. I had rather put 
it off, thinking that the sight of the well-known 
rooms and faces would be disagreeable to me and 
make me regret, perhaps, the past, but I felt already 
that all that old life was over — one adapts one's self 
so quickly to different surroundings. It did seem 
funny to be announced by my own special huis- 
sier, Gerard, and to find myself sitting in the green 
drawing-room with all the palms and flowers ar- 
ranged just as they always were for me, and a semi- 
circle of diplomats saying exactly the same things 
to Madame de Freycinet that they had said to me 
a few days before, but I fancy that always happens 
in these days of democracy and equalising educa- 
tion, and that under certain circumstances, we all 
say and do exactly the same thing. I had quite a 
talk with Sibbern, the Swedish minister, who was 
very friendly and sympathetic, not only at our 
leaving the Foreign Office, but at the extreme dis- 

[264] 




Mine. Sadi Cariiot. 
Fiom a diawiiis liy Mile. Anitlie Beaiiry-Saurel. 



LAST DAYS AT THE FOREIGN OFFICE 

comfort of moving in such frightfully cold weather. 
He was wrapped in furs, as if he were going to the 
North Pole. However, I assured him we were 
quite warm and comfortable, gradually settling 
down into our old ways, and I was already looking 
back on my two years at the Quai d'Orsay as an 
agreeable episode in my life. I had quite a talk 
too with the Portuguese minister, Mendes Leal. 
He was an interesting man, a poet and a dreamer, 
saw more, I fancy, of the literary world of Paris 
than the political. Blowitz was there, of course 
— was always everywhere in moments of crisis, 
talking a great deal, and letting it be understood 
that he had pulled a great many wires all those last 
weeks. He too regretted that W. had not taken 
the London Embassy, assured me that it would 
have been a very agreeable appointment in En- 
gland — was surprised that I hadn't urged it. I re- 
plied that I had not been consulted. Many people 
asked when they could come and see me — would 
I take up my reception day again? That wasn't 
worth while, as I was going away so soon, but I 
said I would be there every day at five o'clock, and 
always had visits. 

One day Madame Sadi Carnot sat a long time 
with me. Her husband had been named under- 
secretary at the Ministry of Public Works in the 

[265] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

new cabinet, and she was very pleased. She was 
a very charming, inteUigent, cultivated woman — 
read a great deal, was very keen about politics 
and very ambitious (as every clever woman should 
be) for her husband and sons. I think she was a 
great help socially to her husband when he became 
President of the Republic. He was a grave, re- 
served man, didn't care very much for society. I 
saw her very often and always found her most at- 
tractive. At the Elysee she was amiable and 
courteous to everybody and her slight deafness 
didn't seem to worry her nor make conversation 
difficult. She did such a charming womanly thing 
just after her husband's assassination. He lay in 
state for some days at the Elysee, and M. Casimir 
Perier, his successor, went to make her a visit. As 
he was leaving he said his wife would come the next 
day to see Madame Carnot. She instantly an- 
swered, "Pray do not let her come; she is young, 
beginning her life here at the Elysee. I wouldn't 
for worlds that she should have the impression of 
sadness and gloom that must hang over the palace 
as long as the President is lying there. I should 
like her to come to the Elysee only when all traces 
of this tragedy have gone — and to have no sad as- 
sociations — on the contrary, with the prospect of a 
long happy future before her." 

[266] 




' // r:.riv PHit, Pdri.'.: 
Presideut Sudi Carnot. 



LAST DAYS AT THE FOREIGN OFFICE 

W. went the two or three Fridays we were in 
Paris to the Institute, where he was most warmly 
received by his colleagues, who had much regretted 
his enforced absences the years he was at the 
Foreign Office. He told them he was going to 
Rome, where he hoped still to find some treasures 
in the shape of inscriptions inedites, with the 
help of his friend Lanciani. The days passed 
quickly enough until we started. It was not alto- 
gether a rest, as there were always so many people 
at the house, and W. wanted to put order into 
his papers before he left. Freycinet made vari- 
ous changes at the Quai d'Orsay. M. Desprey, 
Directeur de la Politique (a post he had occupied for 
years) was named ambassador to Rome in the 
place of the Marquis de Gabriac. I don't think 
he was very anxious to go. His career had been 
made almost entirely at the Foreign Office, and 
he was much more at home in his cabinet, with all 
his papers and books about him, than he would be 
abroad among strangers. He came to dinner one 
night, and we talked the thing over. W. thought 
the rest and change would do him good. He was 
named to the Vatican, where necessarily there was 
much less to do in the way of social life than at 
the Quirinal. He was perfectly au courant of 
all the questions between the Vatican and the 

[267] 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

French clergy — his son, secretary of embassy, 
would go with him. It seemed rather a pleasant 
prospect. 

W. went once or twice to the Senate, as the 
houses met on the 12th or 14th of January, but 
there was nothing very interesting those first days. 
The Chamber was taking breath after the holidays 
and the last ministerial crisis, and giving the new 
ministry a chance. I think Freycinet had his 
hands full, but he was quite equal to the task. I 
went late one afternoon to the Elysee. I had 
written to Madame Grevy to ask if she would re- 
ceive me before I left for Italy. When I arrived, 
the one footman at the door told me Madame 
Grevy was un peu souffrante, would see me up- 
stairs. I went up a side staircase, rather dark, 
preceded by the footman, who ushered me into 
Madame Grevy's bedroom. It looked perfectly 
uncomfortable — was large, with very high ceilings, 
stiff gilt furniture standing against the wall, and 
the heat something awful, — a blazing fire in the 
chimney. Madame Grevy was sitting in an arm- 
chair, near the fire, a grey shawl on her shoulders 
and a lace fichu on her head. It was curiously 
unlike the bedroom I had just left. I had been to 
see a friend, who was also souffrante. She was ly- 
ing under a lace coverlet lined with pink silk, lace, 

[268] 



LAST DAYS AT THE FOREIGN OFFICE 

and embroidered cushions all around her, flowers, 
pink lamp-shades, silver flacons, everything most 
luxurious and modern. The contrast was striking. 
Madame Grevy was very civil, and talkative, — 
said she was very tired. The big dinners and late 
hours she found very fatiguing. She quite under- 
stood that I was glad to get away, but didn't think 
it was very prudent to travel in such bitterly cold 
weather — and Rome was very far, and wasn't I 
afraid of fever? I told her I was an old Roman — 
had lived there for years, knew the climate well, 
and didn't think it was worse than any other. She 
said the President had had a visit from W. and a 
very long talk with him, and that he regretted his 
departure very much, but that he didn't think 
"Monsieur Waddington was au fond de son sac." 
Grevy was always a good friend to W. — on one or 
two occasions, when there was a sort of cabal 
against him, Grevy took his part very warmly — 
and in all questions of home pohcy and persons W. 
found him a very keen, shrewd observer — though 
he said very little — rarely expressed an opinion. I 
didn't make a very long visit — found my way 
down-stairs as well as I could — no servant was 
visible either on the stairs or in the hall, and my 
own footman opened the big doors and let me out. 
We got off the first days of February — as, up to 
[2691 



FIRST YEARS AS A FRENCHWOMAN 

the last moment, W. had people to see. We went 
for two or three days to Bourneville — I had one or 
two very cold tramps in the woods (very dry) which 
is quite unusual at this time of the year, but the 
earth was frozen hard. Inside the woods we were 
well sheltered, but when we came out on the plain 
the cold and icy wind was awful. The workmen 
had made fires to burn the roots and rotten wood, 
and we were very glad to stop and warm ourselves. 
Some had their children with them, who looked 
half perished with cold, always insufficiently clad, 
but they were quite happy roasting potatoes in the 
ashes. I was so cold that I tied a woollen scarf 
around my head, just as the women in Canada 
do when they go sleighing or skating. 

We had a breakfast one day for some of W.'s 
influential men in the country, who were much dis- 
gusted at the turn affairs had taken and that W. 
could no longer remain minister, but they were 
very fairly au courant of all that was going on 
in Parliament, and quite understood that for the 
moment the moderate, experienced men had no 
chance. The young Republic must have its fling. 
Has the country learned much or gained much in 
its forty years of Republic? 



[270] 



INDEX 



INDEX 



Adams, Sir Francis, school friend of 
M. Waddington, 198-199. 

Aisne, deputies and senators of De- 
partment of tiie, 60. 

Alexander of Battenberg, Prince, 199- 
200. 

Alexander of Russia, Grand Duke 
(Emperor Alexander III), inter- 
view with, 201-202. 

Alexandra, Queen, 170, 202. 

Ambassadors, treatment of, in Rus- 
sia, 204. 

Americans, violation of rules of court 
etiquette by, 160; good-natured tol- 
erance of, in European circles, 160- 
161 ; Lord Lyons's opinion of women 
of, 185. 

Andrassy, Count, at Berlin Congress, 
142; personality of, 152. 

Andre, Alfred, 263. 

Annamites as dinner guests, 100, 101- 
102. 

Aosta, Due d', in Paris at opening of 
exposition, 109, 110; author's im- 
pressions of, 110-111. 

Arab horses presented to M. Wad- 
dington, 102. 

Arco, Coimt, 7. 

Arnim, Couui,, German ambassador 
in Paris, 6-7; succeeded by Prince 
Hohenlohe, 120. 

Aumale, Due d', president of Bazaine 
court-martial, 12-14; at ball at 
British embassy, 129. 

Austria,, description of Empress of, 
when in Paris, 123; stiffness of court 
etiquette in, 160. 

Baden, Grand Duchess of, M. Wad- 
dington's meeting with, 154. 

Bazaine, Marshal, court-martial of, 
11-14. 

Beaconsfield, Lord, at Berlin Con- 
gress, 142, 143, 149. 

Bear as a pet at German embassy, 
121-122. 

Begging letters received by persons in 
pubUc life, 37. 

Berhn Congress, the, 133 ff. ; French 
plenipotentiaries named to the, 134; 



M. Waddington's account of do- 
ings at, 141-155. 

Berlin Treaty, signing of, 152-153. 

Bernhardt, Sarah, 34, 58. 

Beust, Comte de, as a musician, 87- 
88. 

Bismarck, Count Herbert, story of 
telegram from, 9-10; welcomes M. 
Waddington to Berlin, 141. 

Bismarck, Coimtess Marie, 146. 

Bismarck, Prince, account of, at Ber- 
lin Congress, 141-154; anxiety of, 
over French advance in radicalism, 
210, 229-230; suspicions of sincer- 
ity of, in anxiety for France, 230; 
surprise of, over speedy payment of 
war indemnity by France, 241. 

Bismarck, Princess, M. Waddington's 
account of, 146. 

Blowitz, M. de, present during meet- 
ing of Berlin Congress, 149-150; 
M. Waddington's distrust of, 150; 
Prince Hohenlohe's high opinion of, 
210-211 ; at Madame de Freycinet's, 
265. 

Borel, General, 75. 

Boumeville, days at, 207-209; a win- 
ter house-party at, 226-227 ; a win- 
ter visit to, 270. 

Breakfasts, political, 60. 

Bridge, remarks on, 237. 

Broglie, Due de, cabinet of, 63; un- 
popularity of, 63-64; break-up of 
cabinet, 75. 

Brown, John, retainer of Queen Vic- 
toria, 197. 

Bunsen, George de, 148. 

Bunsen family, 69, 142. 

Canrobert, Marshal, 103. 

Capel, Monsignor, 194. 

Cardinals, incidents attending nam- 
ing of, 191-196. 

Camot, M. Sadi, 266. 

Camot, Madame, 265-266. 

Carvalho, Madame, 58. 

Casimir Perier, dislike of, for office of 
president, 159; mentioned, 229; 
story of Madame Camot and, 266. 

Cataicii, Monsignor, 191-193. 



[2731 



INDEX 



Catholics, views of, concerning Prot- 
estants, 205-207. 

Chanzy, General, appointed ambassa- 
dor to Russia, 203-204. 

Chateaux in France, 94-96. 

Children, interest of Frenchwomen in, 
56-57 ; good treatment of, by French 
of all classes, 174. 

Chinese ambassador, experience at 
dinner with, 114—118. 

Cialdini, General, Italian ambassador 
in Paris, 119-120. 

Clarence, Duke of, love affair of, with 
Catholic princess, 206-207. 

Comgdie Francaise, finished style of 
artists of the. 111. 

Compi6gne, a scene at, during the 
Empire, 24-25. 

Concicrgcrio, Mr. Gladstone at the, 
92 ; interest of American visitors in 
the. 93. 

Conservatoire, Sunday afternoon con- 
certs at the, 42-44 ; marriages made 
at the, 44; change effocted in dress 
of chorus of the, 58; Consignor 
Czascki at the, 87. 

Convent of the Soeurs Augustines in 
the rue de la SantC, 219-223. 

Corti, Italian plenipotentiary to Con- 
gress of Berlin, 143; feeling of, over 
establishment of Tunisian protec- 
torate by France, 155. 

Costumes, national, seen in Paris dur- 
ing exposition year, 123-124. 

Country people, lack of interest of 
French, in form of government, 49; 
attitude of, in election of 1877, 71- 
72; enthusiasm of, aroused over Re- 
public, 208. 

Croizetto, Th6&tre Francais artist, 34, 
58. 

Cyprus, cession of, to England, 1.50. 

Czascki, Monsignor, papal nunzio, 87, 
211. 

Deauville, a vacation at, 157-162. 

D6cazes, Due, appointed to Foreign 
Office, 35; advice on social etiquette 
from, 54-55; Due de Broglie con- 
trasted with. 64. 

Denmark, Crown Prince of. in Paris 
during exposition. 112; at ball at 
British embassy. 129; at ball at the 
Quai d'Orsay, 170-171. 

Desprey, Monseigneur, created a Car- 
dinal, 194-195. 

Desprey, M., a plenipotentiary of 
France at Berlin Congress, 134; 
quoted on treatment of amba.ssa- 
dors in Russia, 204; named am- 
bassador to Rome, 267. 



Diplomatists, antagonistic attitude of, 
toward the Republic, 187; anoma- 
lous and mistaken behaviour of. 1 87- 
188; superflciaUty of majority of. 
232-233. 

Dufaure, M., appointed President du 
Conseil, 35; new cabinet formed by, 
75-76. 

Dufferin. Lord, 86. 

Election of 1877, 71-75. 

Elysf^e, ceremonies attending naming 

of Cardinals at, 193-196. 
English. Monsignor, 192. 
English visitors to Paris in 1879. 196- 

199. 
Eugenie. Empress, at CompiSgne. 25; 

description of. and reminiscences 

concerning, 131-132. 
Exposition Universelle of 1878. 107- 

113. 162-163; closing of, 173-176: 

good moral effect of, 175. 

Fan, an autographed, as souvenir of 
Berlin Congress, 152. 

Farmers, usual IndifTerence of French, 
to form of government, 49; enthu- 
siasm of, over the Republic, 208. 

Ferry, Jules, 180, 229. 

Fitz-Maurice, Lord Edmond, 254. 

France, astonishing rapidity of recov- 
ery of, after Franco-Prussian War, 
240-241. 

Frederick-Charles, Prince, 144-145. 

French people, self-centred attitude 
of, 38-39, 47; conventions in dress 
of girls, 44; interest of women in 
their cliildren, 50-57; lack of re- 
gard for, on part of Northern races, 
91; defence of fine qualities of, 91- 
92; difficulties of interpreting con- 
versation, 118; cramped lives of 
middle-class women, 185; religious 
question among, 205-207. 

Freycinet, M. de, appointed Minister 
of Public Works, 70; ability dis- 
played by. as a Republican states- 
man. 77-78; excellent quaUties of, 
210; succeeds M. Waddington as 
premier, 256; official changes made 
by. 267. 

Freycinet, Madame de, 259; author's 
visit to, at Quai d'Orsay, 264-265. 

Gambetta, Leon, manners and ap- 
pearance of, 21-22; force of oratory 
of, in campaign of 1877, 74; men- 
tioned, 76, 78, 210; appreciation by. 
of value of Tunisian protectorate. 
156; comparison of Grfivy and. 229. 



274 



INDEX 



General amnesty, discussion of the. 
202, 239-240. 

Germans, want of tact characteristic 
of, 146; position of women among, 
146-147; advance in comfort and 
elegance among, 153-154. 

Germany, feeling in, over radicalism 
in France, 210, 229-230. 

Gerome, J. L., as a table companion, 
52. 

Gladstones, visits from the, 92. 

Glynn, Admiral, school friend of M. 
Waddington, 198. 

Gortschakoff, Prince, quoted on death 
of Thiers, 31; at Beriin Congress, 
142, 143; a diplomatist of the old- 
fashioned type, 152. 

Grand Opera in Paris, 33-34. 

Grange, Chateau de la, home of La- 
fayette, 94. 

Grant, President and Mrs., in Paris, 
113-118. 

Greek national dress, 124. 

Grevy, election of, to presidency, 178- 
179; good figure cut by, in society, 
181-182, 186; hats bestowed upon 
two Cardinals by, 193-195; disap- 
pointment of, in the RepubUc, 228- 
229; rivalry between Gambetta 
and, 229; Queen Victoria's meeting 
with, 232 ; feelings of regard for one 
anothef held by M. Waddington 
and, 269. 

Grevy, Madame, 120-121; unknown 
to society upon husband's election 
to presidency, 181-182; first re- 
ception held by, 183-184; question 
of necessity of presence of, at the 
Elysee, 185-186; receptions held by, 
190; author's last visit to, 268-269. 

Grevy, Mademoiselle, at Prince Ho- 
henlohe's reception, 189-190. 

Halanzier, director of the Grand Op- 
era, 34. 

Hatzfeldt, Coimt, story of Liszt and, 
89-91; personal charm of, 91. 

Helene d'Orleans, Princess, love af- 
fair of Duke of Clarence and, 206- 
207. 

Hoare, Sir Henry, 246. 

Hohenlohe, Prince, German ambassa- 
dor to France, 120; pleasant man- 
ners of, 122; at Berlin Congress, 
143, 149; reception given to Presi- 
dent Grevy by, 189-190; reports 
by, concerning feeling in Germany 
over French radicalism, 209-210. 

Hohenlohe, Princess, striking person- 
ality of, 120-121; at Madame 
Grevy's first reception, 184. 



Holland, Lady, 236. 

Holland House, London, 236. 

Hotel de Ville, ball at the, in 1878, 

139-141. 
Houghton, Lord, 86. 
Humbert, King, 103-104. 

Ignatieff, General, 87. 

Isabella, Queen, at Marshal de Mac- 
Mahon's reception, 109-110; de- 
scription of, and account of audi- 
ence given author by, 124-127; din- 
ner given Marshal and Madame de 
MacMahonby, 127-128. 

Italians, author's doubts concerning, 
211. 

Japanese, reported intelligence of, 92. 
Jockey Club, Paris, political talk at 
the, 246. 

Karolyi, at Berlin Congress, 143. 
Kellogg, Clara Louise, with the Wad- 

dingtons, 232. 
King, General Rufus, 191. 
Kruft, chef du materiel at Quai d'Or- 

say, 80, 81, 82, 173, 251-252. 

Lafayette, Marquis de, interest of 
American visitors in things relat- 
ing to, 93-94. 

Lasteyrie, Count de, 36, 261. 

Layard, Sir Henry, 86-87. 

Leo XIII, election of, 105. 

Liszt, meetings with, and stories of, 
88-91. 

Longchamp, review of Paris garrison 
at, 8-9. 

Lord Mayor of London at the Grand 
Opera, Paris, 33. 

Louis Philippe, memories of, 14, 29. 

Lutteroth, M., uncle of M. Wadding- 
ton, 65, 262 ; information concerning 
Royalist circles from. 233-234; in- 
teresting friends of, 234-237. 

Luxembourg, Palace of the, 213-215; 
gardens of the, 215-217. 

Lyons, Lord, lesson in diplomatic po- 
liteness from, 99-101 ; ball given by, 
during exposition year, 128-130; 
at Madame Grevy's first reception, 
184; memories of Washington min- 
istry by, 185. 

MacMahon, Fabrice de, 103. 

MacMahon, Marshal de. President of 
French Republic, 4; at the Long- 
champ review, 9; receptions of, at 
Versailles, 25-26; attitude of, to- 
ward cabinet of 1876. 36; official 



[275] 



INDEX 



dinner given by, to diplomatic corps 
and tlie Government, 39-40; dis- 
missal of cabinet by (May 16, 1877), 
60-61; dislilce of, for the Republic 
and the Republicans, 7.3; official 
receptions and dinners of, 85-86; 
Mrs. Grant and, 115-116; visits M. 
Waddington at Deauville, 158-159: 
dislike of, for office of president, 
159; preference of, for his military 
title, 159; fete given.by, at Versailles 
during exposition year, 163-166; 
resignation of, 177-178; delight at 
resumption of private life, 179. 

MacMahon, Marochale de, description 
of visit to, 36-37; visit to Madame 
Waddington from, upon dismissal 
of cabinet, 62-03; chilly attitude of, 
toward things Republican, 79. 

Madeleine, service at the, for King 
Victor Emmanuel, 102-103. 

Marguerite de Nemours, Princesse, 
author's visit to, 50. 

Marquis, anecdotes of a dictatorial, 
234-230. 

Marriages, made at the Conserva- 
toire or the OpfTa Comique, 44; fa- 
vourable criticism of arranged, 44- 
46. 

Martin, Henri, senator of the Aisne, 
60, 75. 

Mathilde, Princesse, meeting with, 
129-130; salon of. 130. 

Mendes Leal, Portuguese minister, 
265. 

Molins, Marquise, Spanish ambassa- 
dress, 184. 

Mollard, Introducteur des Ambassa- 
deurs. 190, 193. 

Mommsen, Thcodor, 59, 148. 

Morny, Due de, a founder of Deau- 
ville, 157, 158; famous entertain- 
ments of, 191. 

Morocco, mission from, 256. 

Murat, Princess Anna (Duchesse de 
Mouchy), 25. 

Napoleon III, Emperor, at Com- 
pi6gne, 25. 

Napoleon's tomb, interest of Ameri- 
can visitors in, 93. 

National Assembly, description of 
sittings of, 17-21. 

New Year's day reception at the 
President's, 84. 

Ney, Marshal, execution of, recalled, 
93. 

Nuns, the hfe of, 220-221. 

Oliffe, Sir Joseph, a founder of Deau- 
ville, 157. 



Opera Comique, making of marriages 
at the, 44 ; artists of the, 57-58. 

Opposition leader, joys of position of, 
239. 

Origans, Due d", at Countess de Su- 
gar's salon, 29. 

Orleans family, members of, at official 
reception given by the Wadding- 
tons, 53, 57; members of, at Lord 
Lyons's ball, 128-129. 

OrloflT, Prince, Russian ambassador, 
31, 87; attractive personality of, 
119; at Prince Hohenlohe's recep- 
tion to President Grevy, 190. 

Paris, reasons against holding of Par- 
liament in, 85; gaiety of, during ex- 
position, 112-113, 162-163, 173- 
174; return of the Parliament to, 
212-213. 

Pedro de Bragance, Emperor of Bra- 
zil, 59. 

Pie, Monsignor, created a Cardinal, 
194-195. 

Piemont, Prince and Princesse de, 54. 

Pius IX, death of and funeral ob- 
servances, 104-105. 

Poles, author's lack of confidence in, 
211. 

PontCcoulant, Comte dc, chef de cabi- 
net under M. Waddington, 80, 81, 
82, 139, 178, 181. 249, 259. 

Pothnau. Admiral, appointed ambas- 
sador to Great Britain, 203; annoy- 
ance of, over offer of London em- 
bassy to M. Waddington, 258. 

Protestants, views of, held by Catho- 
lics, 205-207; isolated position of 
the French, 263. 

Quai d'Orsay, description of house 
of Foreign Minister at the, 78-79; 
removal of Waddingtons to, 79-84; 
receiving and entertaining at, 84 ff. ; 
large ball given at, 166-173; English 
visitors at, 196-199; view from, on 
cold winter nights, 245; departure 
from, 256-262; formal vi.sit to Ma- 
dame de Freycinet at, 264-265. 

Quartier Latin, the modern, 216. 

Reay. Lord and Lady, 254. 

Receptions, customs at official, 40- 
41. 

Renan, Ernst, description of, 52-53. 

Renault, L^on, prefet de police, 39. 

Republic, strength of feeling against 
the, in Paris ".society," 76-77, 187- 
189; enthusiasm of farmers over 
the, 208; disappointment of states- 



[276] 



INDEX 



men in the, 228-229 : moderation of 
feeling in society circles toward the, 
at present time. 247. 

Republicans, proposed uprising of 
(1877), 65; work of, in election of 
1877, 72-74; victory of. 75. 

Reviews at Longchamp, 8-9, 135-138. 

Rome, early social life in. 31-32; ac- 
count of reception in, where roy- 
alties were present, 54. 

Roumanian woman's dress. 124. 

Royalties, first social encounters with, 
53-56; present at opening ceremony 
of exposition, 109-110; experiences 
with, at ball given by Lord Lyons 
at British embassy. 128-130; risks 
run by. at fete at Versailles. 164. 
165-166; present at the Wadding- 
tons' ball at Quai d'Orsay, 170-171. 

Rudolph, Archduke, crown prince of 
Austria, 111. 

Russia, sadness of people of, 202 ; dis- 
tance between princes and ordinary 
mortals in, 204; pains taken to give 
ambassadors a pleasant impression 
of, 204. 

St. Vallier. Count de, 23-24, 230; sen- 
ator of the Aisne, 60, 75; plenipo- 
tentiary to Berlin Congress, 134, 
141; ambassador to Germany, 204- 
205 ; reports brought from Germany 
by, 229-230. 

Salisbury, Lord, at Berlin Congress, 
143, 150-151. 

Salon reserve, passing of the, 170. 

Salons, political, 27-31. 

Sartiges, Comte and Comtesse de, 
192. 

Sartiges, Vicomte de, 192. 

Say, Leon, as a speaker in the Na- 
tional Assembly, 21; Minister of 
Finance, 35, 76; attitude of, toward 
French protectorate of Timis, 151. 

Say, Madame, 203. 

Schouvalofl, Count, 87 ; at Berlin Con- 
gress, 142, 149. 

Segur, Coimtess de, political salon of, 
28-30. 

Seine, freezing of the, 243-245. 

Shah of Persia, experiences with the, 
135-138. 

Shooting expeditions. 237-238. 

Shops, trading at small, 223-226. 

Sibbem, Swedish minister, 262, 264- 
265. 

Simon. Jules, dismissal of cabinet of, 
60-61. 

Singing, comments on French, 43. 

Skating experiences in Paris in 1879, 
241-243. 



ScBurs Augustlnes, Convent and Hos- 
pital of the, 219-223. 
SuUivan, Arthur, in Paris, 231-232. 

Theatre Frangais, nights at the, 34. 

Thiers, M., 4 ; superseded as President 
of Republic by MacMahon, 4; re- 
ceptions at house of. 30-31; com- 
ment of Prince Gortschakoff upon. 
31; condition in 1877 and sudden 
death of, 67. 

Thiers. Madame, 30. 

Thorndike. Miss (Comtesse de Sar- 
tiges). 192. 

Tiffany, success of, with French, at 
exposition of 1878, 176. 

Travelling, a Frenchwoman's views 
of, 107. 

Troubetskoi, Princess Lize. 28. 

Trouville, vogue of, as a watering- 
place. 157. 

Tunis, French protectorate of, ar- 
ranged by M. Waddington, 150- 
151, 155. 

Versailles, meetings of National 
Assembly at, 17-22; terraces and 
gardens at, 22; Marshal de Mac- 
Mahon's receptions at, 25-26; com- 
pared with Paris as a meeting- 
place of Assembly, 84-85; badly 
managed fSte given by Marshal de 
MacMahon at, 163-166; removal 
of Parliament to Paris from, 212- 
213. 

Victor Emmanuel, death of, and ser- 
vice at the Madeleine for, 102-103. 

Victoria, Princess, charming charac- 
ter of. 144; strong English proclivi- 
ties of, 153-154. 

Victoria. Queen, M. Waddington re- 
ceived by, in Paris, 196-197; pres- 
tige of, in France. 219; expresses ap- 
proval of M. Waddington, 232. 

Vienna, stiffness of court at, 160. 

Vogiie. Marquis de. a visit from, at 
Deauville, 159. 

Waddington. Francis, son of Madame 
Waddington, 56. 217, 244, 261-262. 

Waddington, Richard, senator of the 
Seine Inferieure, 36, 180; family Ufe 
at country home of, 68-69; early ca- 
reer of, 70; story of the Prince of 
Wales and, 70. 

Waddington, Madame Richard, 69. 

Waddington. William, marriage of 
Madame Waddington and, 3; dep- 
uty to National Assembly from De- 
partment of the Aisne, 3-4; brief 



[277] 



INDEX 



term as Minister of Public Instruc- 
tion, 4; method of speaking in Na- 
tional Assembly, 19-20; criticisms 
of, by opposition newspapers, 27; 
second appointment as Minister of 
Public Instruction (1876), 35; life 
of, as minister, 41-42, 47-49, 50, 
52-53, 59-60; dismissal of, from the 
ministry, 60-61; fears of arrest of, 
64; attitude toward proposed Re- 
publican uprising, 65; electoral cam- 
paign of, 71-72; elected senator in 
1877, 75; named to the Foreign 
OlHce In new cabinet formed by 
Dufaure, 76; life of, as Foreign 
Minister, 78, 86, 97, 105; named 
plenipotentiary to Berlin Congress, 
134; activities of, at the Congress, 
141-155; French protectorate of 
Tunis arranged by, 150-151, 155; 
remains at Foreign Office upon ac- 
cession of Grcvy, and becomes 
prime minister, 180; onerous life of, 
180-181; reception of, by Queen 
Victoria, 196-197; interview with 
Grand Dulie Alexander of Russia, 
201-202; determines to quit office, 
228; last days as premier and For- 
eign Minister, 228 #., 249-256; mild 
attacks on, by political opponents, 
233; shooting parties at GrSvy's 
and Casimir Perier's, 238; gives 
over ministry to Freycinet, 256; of- 
fered the London Embassy, but de- 
clines, 257; President Grevy's re- 
gard for, 269. 

Waddington, Madame, mother of Wil- 
liam Waddington, 68-69. 

Waddington, Madame William, mar- 
riage, 3; early experiences in Paris 
after Franco-Prussian War, 4-8, 
10-16; anecdote of Count Herbert 
Bismarck's telegram to, 9-10; story 
of early attempt to arrange a mar- 
riage for, 45-46; at first big dinner 
at the Ministry of Pubhc Instruc- 
tion, 52-53; first social meetings 
with royalties, 53-5G; experience 
in thanking the artists at recep- 
tion, 57-58; visit of Marechale de 
MacMahon to, upon dismissal of 
cabinet, 62-63; feehngs on moving 
into foreign ministry, 79-82; trials 
over reception days, 105-107; ex- 



perience with Chinese ambassa- 
dor at Marshal de MacMahon's 
dinner to General Grant, 114-118; 
audience given to, by Queen Isa- 
bella of Spain, 124-127; at Lord 
Lyons's ball, and meeting with Prin- 
cesse Mathilde, 128-130; received 
by Empress Eugenie, 131; does not 
accompany husband to Berhn Con- 
gress, 135; meeting with the Shah 
of Persia, 135-138; in crush at ball 
at H6tel de Ville, 139-140; exciting 
adventures at fete at Versailles, 
163-166; ball given by, at the Qual 
d'Orsay, 166-173; attends Madame 
Grfivy's first reception, 183-184; 
at naming of Cardinals at the 
Elyseo, 191-196; conversations of, 
with Catholic friends, 205-207; 
growing fondness of, for the rive 
gauche, 217-219; skating experi- 
ences of, 241-242; crosses the Seine 
on the ice, 244; visits of farewell re- 
ceived by, upon leaving Quai d'Or- 
say, 259-262; pays formal visit to 
Madame de Freycinet at Quai d'Or- 
say, 264; visit to Madame Gr6vy, 
268-269; departure from Paris and 
short stay at Bourneville, 269-270. 

Wales, Prince of, story of Richard 
Waddington and, 70; liking of 
Parisians for, 111-112; Madame 
Waddington presented to Princesse 
Mathilde by, 129-130; at ball at the 
Quai d'Orsay, 172. 

Washington, D. C, characteristics of, 
85; Lord Lyons's reminiscences of 
life at, 185; a French conception of, 
200-201. 

William 1, Emperor, attempted assas- 
sination of, 141 n. 

Winter of 1879, severity and hard- 
ships of, 241-246, 253-255. 

Wittgenstein, Prince, 120. 

Women, adaptability of American, 
185; cramped lives of middle-class 
French, 185; more uncompromising 
than men in political views, 188- 
189, 246-247; ambitions of, for hus- 
bands and sons, 266. 

Zuylen, Baron von, Dutch minister, 

39; as a musician, 87. 
Zuylen, Madame von, 259-260. 



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